


The Kingdom by the Sea (WIP)

by SarahLynnB



Category: Into the Woods (2014), Into the Woods - Sondheim/Lapine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 79,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahLynnB/pseuds/SarahLynnB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author's note: this story is a sequel to Taking Flight (available at AO3), my fic about what happened to Rapunzel and her prince after they left the witch in ‘Into the Woods’.</p>
<p>This is a ‘work in progress’, which means it might change from this version to the final one I post when it's done.  Once the story is finished and edited I'll remove the 'WIP' from the title. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

The Kingdom by the Sea - Part One

 

“There it is.”

Rapunzel did not realize she had fallen asleep against her prince's back as they rode his horse through the woods until she awakened at his words. She blinked against the sunlight, lifted her head, and looked about her.

It was mid-afternoon. The deepest part of the wood they'd been traveling through were behind them, and now the prince's horse stood among tall widely-placed trees with short grass and pale soil setting between them.

They had been journeying since daybreak, after spending the rest of the night in a dovecote along the side of the road. A dovecote that had oddly grown thorns over its door and all the openings, preventing the birds within from escaping until the prince had managed to dislodge the roof. Then the birds had fled – in time to slay a giant, as it happened! - but Rapunzel and her prince were still trapped.

Of course, Rapunzel thought with a blush, they had found ways to pass the time until daylight. Until they heard voices outside, and axes falling, and the prince opened the door to face a small group of axmen from the palace, staring at him through the thick, halfway-hacked vines of thorns that covered the door. The conversation had been very strange -

“Oh! You found us!”

“Yes, your highness – are you all right?”

“Right enough. How did you know we were here?”

“Got a message, delivered to the front gate, said to go t' the dovecote by the eastern gate, that the king's youngest was stuck there 'n' bring axes. What'd'you mean 'we'?”

“Uh – well, thank you for your service, carry on! I'll just shut the door so none of those thorns get in here - “

The door was shut, the thorns were hacked through, and the next time the prince opened the door the thicket had been cleared from the doorway and the axmen were stowing their blades and preparing to head back to the palace.

The prince shouted his thanks, and then stepped outside into the morning sun. Rapunzel heard him proclaim joy at finding his horse Hector nearby and unharmed. Then his words faded and, suddenly alarmed, Rapunzel left the bed of straw where they had been laying and ventured to the doorway.

The morning sun was warm, welcoming, but too bright. Rapunzel squinted and lifted her hand against it, and as her eyes adjusted to the glare she saw her beloved standing about ten paces from the doorway, exchanging some words with the head axmen as the three others looked on from the saddles of their horses.

One of the axmen saw Rapunzel at the doorway, turned to his companion and said something, nodding in her direction. The other axman laughed for some reason and shrugged, glancing at Rapunzel in a way that reminded her of her mother, when she was saying something cutting about a person she didn't like.

Rapunzel suddenly felt very exposed standing there in the doorway, and ducking inside brushed the straw from her hair and dress as she pressed her back against the stone wall and closed her eyes.

Hoofbeats sounded a few moments later and the prince called her name. She heard the clack clack of his boots on the stone floor, opened her eyes and saw him right before her, his fair face flushed with excitement but concern in his wide blue eyes.

“Dearest, are you all right?” he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. “It's all right, we're free to go now. You're shivering.”

Rapunzel looked up at him, felt foolish and confused, she was shivering, why? What was there to be afraid of, now? “Where are we going?”

“To the summer palace,” the prince replied with his fetching smile, and kissed her cheek. “Just as I promised you yesterday! I talked to the chief axman, the giant is dead and the crown prince is with my father looking after the rebuilding of the kingdom. There is nothing for me to do but make sure you're safe and looked after, and you will be, I swear it. Hector is outside, he can't wait to get started. Let's go!”

So Rapunzel went. Of course she did, and she trusted this prince she barely knew when he said he would take care of her, even though her mother said

“You will never be safe with him!”

and those words were still ringing in her ears and at the edge of her dreams. Rapunzel had slept in security and sameness her entire life and so had no idea what a nightmare was, but the dreams she had had just before dawn were different, unsettling in a way she didn't understand, but the sun was so bright and his eyes were so blue that she decided everything would be fine if she simply took her prince's hand.

So she went, onto the white horse and away from the ruined land with her arms around her prince's waist, the scent of leather and sweat and wet grass all blending together as she tucked her hands into his sword belt and went to sleep. That had been just after sunrise. And now...

Now Rapunzel leaned a little to look around her prince's shoulder as he repeated the words, “There it is,” and saw a low stone wall facing them, stretching as far as she could see in either direction. The dirt path they had taken away from the dovecote was now a cobblestone road, wide enough for two carriages to pass with space to spare, and that road led right to the center of the wall, where an archway stood blocked by a wrought-iron gate. A very small building stood hard-by the gate, and as Rapunzel watched an older man dressed in dark homespun clothes and carrying a pike stepped out of its narrow doorway.

“Oh, he's seen us,” the prince muttered, and turned to look at Rapunzel over his right shoulder. “How are you doing? Did you sleep well? I tried not to jostle too much but there were some stones - “

“I slept fine,” Rapunzel replied, not wanting to make the unsettling dreams she'd had more real by talking about them. She tightened her grip on the prince's waist. “Where are we?”

“The gate to the kingdom by the sea,” The prince sighed, and lifted his gaze to the sky. “Breathe the air, isn't it wonderful?”

Frowning, Rapunzel took a deep breath. Her eyes widened as she met the prince's eyes in shock. “What is that?”

“It's the sea,” the prince smiled. “Salt and fish and the life that grows there. Mussels and seaweed - “

“Seaweed? What's that?”

“Slippery as the blazes, that's what it is,” the prince grinned. “I can't wait to show it to you, once we get past the gatekeeper. Look how he's staring at us! Well, best to get it over with. Tch tch.”

The prince nudged his horse's flanks and the beast trotted forward, his hooves clicking against the cobblestones. Rapunzel kept her eyes on the gatekeeper, noticing that the whiskered fellow was indeed staring at them – well, staring at the prince – and his eyes got bigger and rounder until they drew next to the gatehouse and Rapunzel wondered that the man's eyes didn't pop right out of his head!

“Yer highness!” The gatekeeper exclaimed, and dropped an impressively low bow. “I thought that was you – where's your escort? Why ain't you at th' palace where you was yesterday?”

“It's a very long story, Roger,” the prince said cordially, “Suffice it to say I had need to leave the palace suddenly, without an escort.”

“An' yer still alive?” The older man's eyes got wider still. “You must have a good witch on yer side. There was a giant - “

“So I've heard,” the prince interrupted, “But that's all mended now. The crown prince and the royal family are safe at the palace, and making repairs. Was there any damage here?”

“Just some roof tiles got knocked loose,” Roger shrugged. “We never saw no giant, just felt a big thud just before daybreak an' figured it was another one got killed.”

Rapunzel heard the frown in her prince's voice. “Another one?”

“Yeah, like that big boom we got a few weeks ago. You know. That other giant what got killed.”

“Oh. Yes. I'd forgotten about that one.”

“Yeah,” Roger sniffed, leaning on the pike he was holding, “Some people ain't happy, two giants get killed right in our backyard an' we never saw a thing! Some came out and stood on the gate too, thought that would help, but no. Who's this?”

The prince straightened in his saddle. “Roger, I'd like to present to you my beloved, Rapunzel. She and I are going to be married.”

Roger bowed. “Miss.”

Rapunzel wasn't quite sure what to do, so she nodded. “Hello.”

Roger grinned at her, but without a hint of the sharpness she had seen in the axman's eyes. Rapunzel decided she liked him.

“Roger here has kept the gates to this kingdom since I was a child,” the prince stated fondly. “And he's had to chase me back through that gate more times than he wants to talk about.”

“Yeah, you and your brothers!” Roger chuckled, and shook his head. “How under the moon the three of you all managed to get past the palace guards all them times, I never was able to figure out! But the queen was always glad I could catch you, just the same.”

“The trick is learning how to climb,” the prince replied jovially, and straightening in the saddle looked over the gate, where Rapunzel saw roofs and chimneys and something strange glimmering in the distance. “How are things faring at the summer castle?”

“Oh, same as always,” Roger shrugged again. “Some trade's come through from the sea kingdoms, and the steward's been keeping everything running pretty smooth. Every time he comes through he complains about how boring it is, though. He sure misses when you was young and there was some royal family here! Now they only come when it's too hot at the other place.”

“Yes, I remember! Well, this is very nice after all...” the prince paused for some reason, and Rapunzel thought she felt his breath hitch, as if something was caught in his throat. She was about to ask if he was all right when he cleared his throat and said, “Roger, could you please notify the palace of my arrival, and ask that the kitchen prepare a meal for us? And ask the steward to summon the ladies' maid, Rapunzel is going to need to be settled in after we eat.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Roger replied, and quickly – as if he'd done this many times – he turned, leaned the pike against the guardhouse, and in a few steps was unlocking the gate and swinging it open.

“I'll send a boy right on that errand, sire,” he promised as the prince guided his horse through. “Welcome home, and you too, miss. Very glad to make your acquaintance!”

“Thank you, Roger!” the prince called over his shoulder, and Rapunzel turned her head to see Roger lifting a horn to his lips. A few notes blew, and then there was only the singing of birds in the trees.

“Good old Roger,” the prince muttered, and as Rapunzel once again peeked around his shoulder she could see large stone houses flanking the side of the cobblestone road, shaded by large trees that dappled the ground with sunlight. The road sloped gently downward and because of the trees was bathed in a cool blue shadow.

Far ahead she saw sunlight, and things she had never seen before, but she wasn't afraid. She tightened her grip on the prince's waist and asked, “Where are we going? To the palace?”

“Oh! No, not yet,” the prince replied with another chuckle. “No, that place is going to be frantic for the next hour or so, they aren't used to any royal family here this time of year. There'll be a lot of yelling, clattering, and dust! Oh, so much dust, you have no idea, and they'll be mortified if I show up in the middle of it before they're ready. No, I wouldn't dream of showing you the palace yet. I like you, and I don't want you to run away screaming!”

Rapunzel chuckled too, and laid her chin on the prince's shoulder, her eyes on the sunlit road ahead. “So where are we going?”

The prince turned his head, and bumped her nose with his, his light blue eyes turned cobalt by the shadows and the morning. He kissed her cheek and then turned his attention forward, and as he did so Rapunzel thought she saw a tear in the corner of his eye, although he was smiling. He cleared his throat, and spoke.

“To the seashore. I want to introduce you to my mother.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rapunzel thought she would see the center of the village on the way to the seashore, but after a few minutes' travel she realized that thought had been mistaken.

For the prince was not leading his horse down the wide main road, but at the first opportunity turned behind one of the houses and followed the narrow pathway behind, then turned his horse right and continued down another shaded path between the stone and wooden buildings.

Rapunzel cast her eyes about her, trying to not be too disappointed that she could see nothing but walls of painted wood and carefully stacked and mortared rocks. The prince had fallen very quiet, making the only sound the distant calls of birds and the mutter of the day in the streets, combined with the steady clopping of Hector's hooves on the stone pathway.

After a few moments, however, monotony got the better of her and Rapunzel leaned over to see where they were going. “Is it a long way?”

“Not too long,” the prince answered, in a tone that Rapunzel thought sounded a little forcefully cheerful. “But people make such a fuss seeing a prince on the main road. This is better, trust me.”

Rapunzel nodded, and began to wonder if something was wrong. She opened her mouth to ask when the sound of more hooves came clattering from behind her. Frightened, she tightened her hold on the prince and looked over her shoulder. Mother -

\- but no, it was a man riding a brown horse, wearing a doublet and trousers of the same black leather and studs that the prince was wearing, with two differences: this man also wore a red sash across his chest, and he wore a black slouch hat with a large red plume in it.

“Your highness!” the man said, in a voice that was not loud but held a commanding tone in it, rather like Rapunzel's mother when she was angry. The passageway was just wide enough for two horses and the man drew closer, close enough to notice that he was older, clean-shaven with a lot of gray in his brown hair, and when he got close enough to the prince he eyed him with a deferential but stern look.

The prince glanced at the man, then turned his eyes forward again with a nod. “Good afternoon, Yates. I see Roger sent word to you too, eh?”

“He didn't have to,” the sergeant replied, never taking his eyes off the prince, “I was taking Jasper out for his morning run in the meadow and saw you come through the gate. Have you been in a fight? Your face and hands are scratched. Where's your escort?”

Your face and hands are scratched. Rapunzel remembered too late that the red marks left by the thorns her mother had caused to grow and blind her beloved were still very visible on his hands and around his eyes, even though they had faded somewhat over time. She lowered her gaze and hoped this man wouldn't see the fear and memory in her eyes.

“I think my escort just appeared,” the prince quipped, “But I don't need one, Yates, I was in – a bit of a scrape, but that's all behind me now. I'm just taking my betrothed to the grotto. My dear, this is Sergeant Yates, master of the horse and leader of the cavalry I attend to when I'm on the grounds. Sergeant Yates, this is Rapunzel, my beloved.”

“Miss,” Yates bobbed his head to Rapunzel, then turned serious eyes back to the prince. “Your Highness, I appreciate your desire for discretion by taking the back way, but your father would string me up if anything happened to you - “

“Nah, he wouldn't. Probably give you a promotion!”

Yates paused and sighed, closed his eyes and then opened them again as if he was used to this sort of banter and had decided to just go with it. “You're my responsibility when you're in that uniform. I'll follow twenty paces behind, just to make sure nothing happens to either of you before you get to the palace. All right?”

The prince drew in a full breath, exhaled loudly and shrugged. “My dear Sergeant Yates, it's a beautiful afternoon, the kingdom is safe, and the love of my life is riding at my side. Well – behind me – well – you know what I mean. I've told you where I'm going, and whatever you do with this lovely day is no concern of mine. So do as you like, and I will see you later at the grounds!”

And with those words, the prince nudged Hector's sides and sent the horse into a trot down the stone passageway.

Rapunzel turned to see the sergeant gazing after them and shaking his head, then pressed herself closer to the prince's back and set her lips close to his ear. “I think he's cross with you.”

“Yates? No, he knows me too well. He's just trying to do his job, but he worries too much, just like all of them do. Are you cold?”

“Hm? No, it's cooler here though, why is that?”

“It's the water,” the prince answered, and gradually slowed the horse down to a walk.

The gentle slope they had been riding down leveled out now, and Rapunzel saw that the houses ended where the ground leveled out, and they were now facing a very tall wall, so tall she looked up and knew that even if she was standing on Hector's back, she couldn't see over the top.

“What kind of stone is that?” she asked, putting out one hand to touch it but she couldn't quite reach. The rock was dark gray but pitted, not smooth like any rock she'd ever seen. And it wasn't a collection of stones either, but one large block, and it shone as if wet.

“It's called sea-rock,” the prince replied, and tapped Hector's side so the horse edged toward the rock, close enough for Rapunzel to put her palm flat against the stone. She gasped; the rock was cold, and sharp like needles but it didn't hurt. She drew her hand away and water dripped from it.

“It was shaped and set here centuries ago, to protect the village and the castle from the waves and storms of the sea,” the prince explained, casting his blue-eyed gaze over the length and breadth of the wall. Rapunzel followed his gaze and saw that the wall stretched as far as she could see in both directions, “The main road goes over it to the seashore and the docks but there's another passage that's down this way. I'll show it to you.”

“And that's where your mother lives?” Rapunzel asked, staring at the wall in wonder. She had never seen one like it before.

The prince paused, gathering his reins in his hands once, then again. “Yes,” he finally replied, and spurred his horse to the left.

As they rode Rapunzel noticed that the buildings to the left of them were replaced by another stone wall, this time of common rock, and after a few moments the rock wall on her right grew higher and rougher. It seemed they were traveling downward again, and ahead of them she saw an opening that looked like the drawings of caves she'd seen in her books, but in the same rough sea-stone as the wall.

Are we going in there? She thought in sudden panic, and in her mind it seemed like the opening was a mouth, a horrible monster wanting to swallow them whole. She held her breath and gripped the prince's waist tightly.

Immediately the horse slowed, and the prince glanced over his shoulder. “Dearest, your heart! I can feel it through two layers of leather and linen. Don't be afraid, there's no danger in the grotto. Not there, of all places. Come on, I'll show you!”

Rapunzel could not quiet her fears – not entirely! - because that opening was coming closer and it was dark inside, dark and she could hear a hungry roaring sound, like thunder but constant, roaring and quieting and roaring again.

But the prince had promised she'd come to no harm, didn't he? She trusted him, against everything she knew -

\- You'll never be safe with him! -

because of his eyes, and his smile, and he had risked his life to ride after her, with a giant loose in the land. She took a deep breath and willed every muscle she had to not move and throw her from the horse. But she did close her eyes when they rode through that opening.

When she opened them again, they were inside the grotto.

The first thing Rapunzel saw was stone. They were in a large cave surrounded on all sides by stone of a deep green-blue color, faceted so that it seemed to sparkle with a light that came from inside it. The cave was tall enough that the ceiling was still two feet over her head.

There was light everywhere – shimmering, wavering light, and Rapunzel looked down to see that Hector was standing on a slab of solid rock that extended four or five feet into the cave. Beyond that she saw water.

Water, but so brilliant with the outside sunlight that it glowed, and so pure that she could see straight to the bottom of the pool. The roaring continued, but it was outside; where Rapunzel was looking the water was smooth as glass. She stared at it, transfixed.

The prince muttered something to Hector, and the horse snorted and stood still. He then straightened and Rapunzel removed her hands, knowing he was going to dismount.

“Oh! Thank you!” he said, taking a deep breath before swinging down to the ground with a smile.

Rapunzel giggled and shook her head at him. “I wasn't holding you that tightly, was I?”

“Nope, it's good!” the prince replied, sounding as if he was being strangled. He held his hands up and said in the same tight voice. “Come on. I got you.”

“Oh, stop it,” Rapunzel slapped his arm as she slid to the ground, and as soon as both feet were on the stone she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He kissed her back – their first kiss since that morning, and she did not realize how much she missed it until she felt his warmth mingling with hers.

To her surprise, however, he did not linger in that kiss as he usually did. Instead he very gently pulled away from her and said in a quiet voice, “Not yet. I want you to meet her first.”

Your mother? Rapunzel wanted to ask, but knew it was a foolish question. Who else would he be talking about? His face looked flushed and serious, the crystal water and light reflecting in his blue eyes, making them seem magical. She nodded, and without another word he took her hand and led her along the stone.

The grotto had formed naturally, but as they walked away from the opening Rapunzel noticed that stone pillars and other carvings had been chiseled into the walls, growing more elaborate the deeper into the grotto they went.

The outside light faded, yet the water still shimmered, and after a few moments it was the only source of light, but still bright enough that Rapunzel had no trouble seeing. The cave narrowed, the pillars became more slender and delicate, and now on either side recesses sat, and inside each one a white stone glowed like a tiny star.

The roar was gone now, replaced only by a very quiet, calming lapping of water against stone. Rapunzel gazed about herself, awed at the blue rock and the glowing white stones. She felt as if she was inside a starry night sky.

“Here we are.”

The prince moved and Rapunzel found herself standing beside him, on his left. They had reached the end of the stone path and were now in the deepest point of the grotto.

In front of Rapunzel stood a deep pool of water, so deep she could not see the bottom. The surface was pale green, but beyond that the water turned blue, and bluer still, a rich crisp blue so clear and pure it looked like -

\- it looks like his eyes, she thought, and felt an overwhelming sense of wonder, as if a mystery had been opened up to her. Awestruck, she turned her eyes from the water and looked at what lay beyond.

The pool was deep but not wide, and about four feet away stood an ornate arched opening, carved into the sea rock. The rock itself was carefully smoothed and chiseled into twin pillars hung with stone flowers, cascading down the stone into the water. A gleaming white light sat at either side of the opening, each in a scalloped opening, like sentry lights. Over the opening was carved words Rapunzel couldn't read but there were a lot of them, and they looked official. They looked royal.

Within the opening Rapunzel saw another carving, a beautiful carving of a woman. She was seated before a stone urn, dressed in flowing robes with her hair braided and curled upon her head, and holding her cupped hands stretched in front of her. From between her stone fingers water flowed, not in a torrent but in tiny sparkling droplets, as if she was casting stars into the water in front of the urn. The water gleamed brightly, casting a pale white light on the woman's robes, her arms, her face. Her chin was lifted, and she was smiling. Rapunzel noticed she was wearing a stone crown of small flowers on her head.

Beside her the prince cleared his throat.

“My mother,” he said, very quietly, and when Rapunzel looked at him she saw tears in his eyes.

“Oh,” she breathed, and looked at the statue again. Then her knees felt weak and she knelt down, overwhelmed by the presence in front of her with its calm smile and stars cascading from its hands. “Oh - “

The prince quickly knelt next to her and took both of her hands in his, and she thought that he wasn't acting as if what she'd done was strange at all, maybe he felt it too? He took a deep breath and met her eyes, smiled at her reassuringly and then turned to the smiling image before them.

“Mother, I'm back,” he said, his words echoing against the stone walls and mixing with the chiming water, calmly, easily as if he was used to talking thus. “I told you I wouldn't be gone long, well – it feels like a long time. I came here to see you, and ask you something. You remember I promised I'd never take a wife unless she captured my heart completely and made the world sing for me. Well, it – it took a while, but I finally found her and you'd never believe how! But anyway, here she is.” He straightened up a little and lifted his chin. “Your Majesty, Queen Beatrice, may I present to my betrothed, my beloved, my...whatever 'bees' there are I haven't thought of. Mother, this is Rapunzel. Rapunzel, my mother, the queen.”

Rapunzel's heart was beating so fast she thought she might fly apart, but she wasn't frightened. She gazed at the statue and half-expected something magical to happen, but nothing did. The light glowed, the water sparkled as it dripped from the statue's fingers, and everything was quiet and serene.

But - “I think she smiled at me,” Rapunzel whispered, and blinking surprised herself by feeling two tears slide down her face.

“Of course she did,” the prince whispered back, and kissed her cheek, where the tear lay. He shifted his weight so he was sitting on the stone rather than kneeling, and Rapunzel followed suit. He leaned toward her and the reflected light played across his features, twinkling in his eyes and glimmering in his fair hair. 'Of course she did, I knew she'd like you. You see, her spirit is out there on the waves but she always said she would come back here and visit, and I promised her I would come here and tell her what I was doing, and when I took a wife. I know, it's not grand and lofty like at my father's castle - “

“Oh! No,” Rapunzel said quickly, and scooted closer, so their faces and bodies were almost touching. “I love it here, it's so – it's like the books I've read. It's like magic.”

The prince's face brightened at those words, his eyes so blue it was painful to look at them. He rubbed her hands in his, and she cherished the warmth there. “I knew you'd see it. Not everybody does, I always did.”

She smiled and tapped her nose against his. “Can I kiss you now?”

The prince glanced at the statue, then shifted a little so they weren't quite facing those calm eyes. He leaned toward Rapunzel and very softly met his lips with hers.

How long they sat like that, Rapunzel wasn't quite sure. She only knew the gentle music of the water combined with the shimmering lights behind her closed eyelids and the strange, salty sea air with its distant roar, and created something new inside of her that she had never known existed. Something that had lain there her entire life waiting to be born. Born with him -

She wrapped her arms around the prince and fell into that kiss, bottomless as the sea, and felt as if she could stay there forever.

Indeed it might have been forever, but after a time she realized she could hear a strange tapping coming from somewhere. Pulling herself back from her bliss she opened her eyes and saw the prince looking back up the grotto path, his face flushed and his hair in disarray.

The tapping continued. Rapunzel frowned and looked up the path but saw nothing but wavering lights and blue rock. “What is that?”

“Yates,” the prince answered, and rose to one knee, straightening his jacket. “He must have come across Hector and knows we're back here. The palace is probably ready for us and the steward will make a fuss if we're late. Come on.”

The prince rose and leaned down, offering Rapunzel his hand, she took it and lifted herself from the stone, casting one final look around the magical grotto with its beneficent, smiling statue. She faced the statue and without knowing quite why, dropped a deep curtsey.

“Thank you for your blessing,” she said.

“Yes, thank you, mother!” the prince added, blowing the statue a kiss. “We'll see you again when your grandson is born!”

Rapunzel blushed at that, but she did not think the statue did – although she thought she saw perhaps a hint of a knowing smile. But of course, that was simply the water playing on her mind. The prince tugged at her hand and she followed, letting him lead her out of the sacred grotto and back into the sun.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

As it turned out, the prince was correct. Not only was Yates waiting for them at the entrance to the grotto, but as he handed Hector's reins over to the prince Rapunzel could see other shadows in the alleyway behind him – shadows of people and things she had never seen before.

“Your Highness,” Yates said, but he was looking at Rapunzel as he drew his hand back, “An escort is here to accompany you back to the palace. You may ride Hector, and of course there is a carriage for milady.”

Rapunzel started a little and instinctively reached for the prince's hand, stepping behind him. “I want to ride with him.”

Yates took a deep breath, paused as if he was expecting this argument. Now he looked at the prince. “Of course you do, my dear, but I'm word of His Highness' presence has spread among the townsfolk and – well – I'm afraid it just isn't proper for a future princess to be seen in public riding on the back of a horse like a commoner.”

Rapunzel's mouth dropped open and she stared at this man, feeling her body begin to shake in panic. The prince must have sensed her distress because he turned around at once, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking at her with serious, unblinking eyes.

“It's all right,” he said, in very quick, hushed tones as if he was desperate to calm her down. “Darling? Just listen to me, it's fine. Yates is right, I mean, yes, he talks as if I'm somebody which is pretty funny, but the people here, they want to say hello to both of us and that means a ride through the town. Now Hector here, he's a great horse but that carriage they brought is a lot more comfortable, and anyway it's a short ride, we'll be there before you know it and then I won't leave your side for the rest of the day.”

Rapunzel fought to take deep breaths, but at his last words she reached out and grabbed the edges of his jacket. For a moment it was dark, and she was in the middle of a swamp full of snakes and despair, and she thought he would never be by her side again -

“Promise?” she whispered.

A voice came from the alleyway, an irritated-sounding male voice Rapunzel didn't recognize. “Is everything all right in there?”

Rapunzel blinked and, to her own surprise, giggled a little. “She sounds like mother when I tarried at my bath too long!”

The prince chuckled, “That's the steward, and sometimes he's almost as bad as your mother! But we'll beat them both, won't we?”

He smiled at her then, a smile that lit up the whole grotto and melted every fear she had. She leaned forward and very quickly kissed him.

As soon as they parted he squeezed her shoulders and whispered, “The rest of the day, and nighttime too. Promise!”

Yates cleared his throat. “Your Highness, the steward is - “

“Yes, I know,” the prince sighed, and taking Rapunzel's hand presented her to Yates. “Those had better be the gentlest palace horses pulling that carriage.”

Yates took Rapunzel's hand with a smile and bowed slightly to the prince. “Of course, your highness. I'll see you at the gates.”

With that, the prince blew a kiss to Rapunzel and led Hector outside, into the afternoon sunshine.

Rapunzel watched him go and then looked at Yates, hating how bewildered she felt. The older man smiled at her, kindly and with a little pity she thought, and in a hot burst of pride she blurted, “I'm not a child.”

Yates continued to smile. “Of course not, miss.”

Rapunzel blushed. “But – but I've never done this before. I don't know what to do.”

“Understandable,” Yates pulled on her hand and turned toward the entrance. “That is what the steward and those at the castle will teach you. Right this way.”

Rapunzel followed, gathering up her skirts with her free hand so she wouldn't trip on them going over the cobblestones. The afternoon sunlight was very strong after being in the dim light of the grotto, and for a moment she winced against the glare, unable to see anything but shadows. Then her vision cleared, and she saw what was waiting in the wide alleyway next to the wall of sea-rock.

A carriage was indeed waiting in the afternoon sun, slightly smaller than the one she had seen at the other palace carrying the crown prince and his bride but no less ornate: red trimmed in gold and enamel, pulled by two beautiful bay-colored horses. The groom stood at the open door, and next to the groom stood another man dressed in dark velvets trimmed in lace and looking very official. Yates immediately approached this man, still holding Rapunzel's hand delicately in his.

“Miss,” Yates said crisply as he reached the man's side, “May I present Ormond , the steward of the sea-castle. He will accompany you on your journey through town and see that you safely arrive at the castle gates.”

Rapunzel looked up at this man, who was very tall, much taller than she was. He was also old, slender and clean-shaven with graying hair that framed his narrow face and dark, piercing eyes. Eyes that could have been her mother's, they were so keen -

But this man smiled genially at Rapunzel and bowed to her, taking her hand from Yates as smoothly and gently as if she was made of china.

“It will be my very great pleasure, my dear,” Ormond said in round, smooth tones that made Rapunzel feel immediately at ease. He guided her toward the open door of the carriage and even helped her gather up her skirts so she could step in more easily.

She sat down, looking around at the carriage in frank curiosity. No, it was not as grand as the bridal carriage at the palace. The satin lining was worn and bare in a few spots, and there was dust and a few leaves on the carriage floor which spoke of long storage and a hasty sweeping-out.

But the seat was well-padded and comfortable, and as Rapunzel settled in she looked up to see, far ahead on the path, her prince on his white steed flanked by a few members of the cavalry, trotted easily along the shadowed path toward a sunlit road where some townsfolk were already waiting, and waving at him.

A moment later the prince rode into the sunlight and Rapunzel thought she heard a cheer go up, and the prince turned to his right, raised his arm and waved at people unseen to her.

I'm not the only one who loves him, Rapunzel realized, and suddenly she felt very small.

But at that moment the prince glanced over his shoulder at her, and blew her another kiss. She smiled, and he turned the corner and was gone.

THUD, the carriage door shut and a moment later the groom was mounting the driving platform and taking up the horses' reins.

Rapunzel glanced at Ormond, who was also looking at the space where the prince had just been, and said, “Thank you for taking such good care of the prince, and me. This is already so much more than I dreamed it would be!”

The steward smiled and patted Rapunzel's hand.

“It's the very least I can do, my dear,” he said, and taking up an ebony-tipped cane that had been leaning against the opposite carriage door, he rapped it on the back of the driver's seat, and the carriage started with a jolt down the cobblestone street.

Rapunzel had never ridden in a carriage before, and thought for a moment that the back of the prince's horse might actually be more comfortable, so greatly did the vehicle jounce and rattle down the street.

She also wasn't sure what to do in the presence of the steward, who seemed nice enough but the only man she had ever been alone with before was her prince. She had no idea what to say to this man, who was a stranger, and gave off a definite impression of power and authority in his rich velvets and straight-back shoulders. She smiled at him, awkwardly, and edged over to the other side of the seat, looking out of the carriage to avoid eye contact with him.

This worked well enough for a few moments – she found herself looking at the sides of buildings and, as the carriage neared the cross-street, a few people standing by the side of the road, looking at her. She looked back, unsure what to do, and noticed they were waving to her, as if they knew her.

Or perhaps they're waving to Ormond, she thought, and turned to see if he was waving to them. But no, he was only looking at her with a slightly puzzled frown.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” he asked.

“I - “Rapunzel blinked, then looked down. “I don't know what to do.”

“Why, wave back to them!” Ormond exclaimed, gesturing for her to turn and face the other way. “Those are your subjects, when you marry the prince you will be ruling them. Smile and greet them!”

“Oh - “ Rapunzel blinked again, not wanting to seem foolish by asking but what the steward said didn't make any sense to her. She only wanted to live with her prince, wherever they went, she had no desire to rule! Certainly her mother would say she had no capacity for it. But...

They were nearing the cross-street now, and the carriage slowed to make the turn. Rapunzel shifted in her seat and waved to the people clustered at the edge of the road, smiling as brightly as she could. To her surprise they waved back even more enthusiastically, and she saw a few people with children sitting on their shoulders, and the children were waving too. How strange! Rapunzel thought. Waving to me when they don't know who I am at all...

When the carriage had turned the corner fully, Rapunzel glanced forward and saw in front of her a long cobblestone road sloping gradually upward, lined with homes and shops and clusters of people all looking at her and waving. A short distance ahead she saw her prince, still astride his horse, sitting tall and happy with Yates at his side and surrounded by his escort, waving his black-gloved hand at the gathered populace with practiced, smiling ease.

The crowds waved back, cheering and calling to him, and Rapunzel smiled at how happy they all seemed. It made her feel the way she felt when her mother brought her blackberries from her garden, like spring had come and everything was safe and comfortable and right, and always would be. Like she was home.

Rapunzel cast her eyes ahead of her prince, up, up the road, and saw that it led to a stone gate in the distance, a high one like the one they had entered earlier, with tall iron gates at the entranceway.

Beyond this gate a huge building towered, easily bigger than any other structure in the village. The prince's castle, Rapunzel thought, and stared at it awestruck.

A castle, but it looked nothing like the king's castle, which was all square rooms and high dark-colored stone walls with no windows. This castle gleamed almost white in the afternoon sun, constructed of curved walls set with high rounded windows that glistened as if they were made of spun sugar. The roof was some sort of blue-colored tile and Rapunzel saw ornate terraces and balconies set into the structure, hung with green plants and colorful flowers.

“You're not waving, my dear.”

“Oh - “ Catching her breath, Rapunzel turned to the street and met the smiles, feeling suddenly and oddly that the beauty of the castle above them was reflected in their faces and eyes. It all radiated together and shone back to her like a beacon, and for the first time since she left the tower Rapunzel felt like she was

home

and as she waved she looked again at the prince and saw that he was smiling back at her, the sun in his hair and the sky in his eyes. She lifted her eyes to the castle ahead of them and before she could stop herself whispered, “It's all so beautiful!”

She didn't look at the steward, but he must have heard her because he cleared his throat and said, “Hm? Oh, yes, the summer castle is...well, it isn't as grand as the king's castle, but I'm sure you'll find it adequate. When we are in a more suitable atmosphere I look forward to learning about your family, as I'm sure we all are.”

So intent was Rapunzel on meeting the gaze of the people in the streets that she only barely heard the steward's words, but as the carriage continued its way up the sloping street she began to think about what he had said. Even though the smile never left her lips and her hand never faltered, a dart of worry grew in her heart.

My family? She thought, casting her gaze over the gathered throngs of shopkeepers and peasants greeting her in front of their shops and homes. I have no father, and my mother is a witch. I don't even know where she is, if the giant killed her or if -

Suddenly it was as if a cloud had gone over the sun and Rapunzel shivered, glancing about herself at the carriage and its finery, at the parents and children, at the fine houses and shops and clear blue sky. Only the night before she and her prince had been trapped in a stone tower surrounded by sharp thorned vines, and those vines were not there in the daylight. They grew by magic, and that magic was still very much alive -

\- alive, and who knew where it went? Maybe it had followed them there. Maybe she was putting them all in danger, if her mother could blind someone without a second thought, what else could she do? Or perhaps it wasn't even her mother but another witch, or something even more powerful, and if it came after her prince or the village Rapunzel knew there was nothing she could do. She didn't even know how she had healed her prince!

“My dear, are you all right?”

Rapunzel blinked, and realized that she had turned in the carriage and was facing Ormond, and breathing very quick shallow breaths. A horrible thought was shrieking through her imagination, the entire village covered in choking vines barbed with sharp thorns and she could do nothing – nothing -

But Ormond couldn't know any of that, not yet, he'd send her away from her prince and that would kill her. Blinking rapidly Rapunzel opened her mouth but could only stammer, “I – I - “

“Oh, you're thirsty,” the steward guessed, and patted her hand as if she was a child. “Of course, and here we are in the fountain square. The prince will need briefing once he arrives at the palace anyway, this is a perfect time to halt so you can freshen up.”

Before Rapunzel could say another word, the steward tapped his cane against the driver's seat, and the carriage rattled to a stop.

Only when she was not moving and the frightening images receded a little in her brain did Rapunzel think to look around herself and see where they were. The carriage was no longer sloping uphill but somewhere level, and as Ormond rose and held out his hand Rapunzel took it, stood, and looked around.

The carriage was standing at the top of a small hill, and as Rapunzel looked behind herself she saw the cobblestone road leading downward, people now crossing the road to go about their affairs. At the base of the hill the road continued over the sea-wall she had seen earlier, and disappeared amid a bustle of shops on the other side of the wall.

Beyond that Rapunzel found herself looking at something she'd never seen before – something pale-yellow that glimmered in the sunlight, stretching like a shining ribbon along the other side of the sea wall. Whatever it was, people were walking through it, and children were playing in it – so it wasn't something that could hurt them, surely! And they were running from that shining ribbon into – into -

Rapunzel squinted, unsure what exactly she was looking at. Whatever it was it was blue, dark blue like her prince's eyes, and glittered and sparkled just as they did. And it was big, big and wide and so vast it disappeared onto the horizon. There were no trees, no hills, nothing to mark where the sky met the earth. Just that beautiful dark blue, mysterious and endless.

It was the first time Rapunzel had ever seen the ocean, and she would never forget it.

Then Rapunzel felt a slight tug on her hand, and turned to face Ormond and depart the carriage. As she gathered her skirts to step down she glanced around and saw that the fountain square was, indeed, square, and large, ringed with stalls and shops set before tall stone walls colored the same pale-ivory as the summer castle.

The crowd kept a respectful distance but were still buzzing happily, and as Rapunzel smiled at them she noticed some guards, dressed in the same black leathers her prince wore, carefully using their pikes to clear a path for her. A moment later Ormond helped her from the carriage, and as the last of the people were parted in front of her Rapunzel saw where the path led.

It was a fountain, as the steward had mentioned, but Rapunzel had only seen pictures of fountains in her books and none were as breathtaking as this. It was set into one wall of the square, a raised semicircle of painted stones and glass gems arranged to form swirling circles of green and blue. On the wall itself an impressive mural of clouds and hills had been painted, birds and trees and horses all blending together to create a work that was large and dazzling.

But it was what was in front of that mural that Rapunzel stared at, amazed. Four statues, all men, carved from gleaming pink-veined stone.

The largest figure was in the center, broad-shouldered and regal-looking, wearing long robes and a crown over his shoulder-length curling locks. His bearded face was handsome but stern-looking, and he held a sword in one hand and a scepter in the other. Every chiseled inch exuded power.

“I see you're admiring the fountain statuary,” Ormond mentioned as Rapunzel tapped both feet to the earth. He lifted one hand and indicated, “That, of course, is King William. You may have met him at the palace.”

“I didn't,” Rapunzel answered, in a smaller voice than she intended but the statue was so big! “The prince told me he was an inv- “

“ - unavailable, of course,” the steward muttered quickly, glancing about himself as if to make certain no had heard Rapunzel almost say invalid. “I'd forgotten. And here - “

On the king's right another statue stood, only slightly less lofty in stature. A young man, square-jawed, cape flowing about him as he stood with one hand cocked on his hip and the other grasped a lifted sword. He gazed at the sword with chin held high and a confident smile on his stone lips. Beneath his crowned head his sculpted hair was rendered so precisely Rapunzel could swear she saw it blowing in the breeze.

“The crown prince,” Rapunzel stated with a smile. “Yes, I was presented to him. Is he very much like his father?”

“Considering the news we had of Prince Maximilian's escapades this morning, I'd say yes,” the steward muttered, but before Rapunzel could ask him what that meant he motioned with his hand again and her eyes were drawn to the next statue.

She thought it might be her prince, but it clearly wasn't. This figure, on the king's left, was broad-shouldered as the king was, and his face was sharp, his eyes large and keen beneath the circlet he wore. His long straight hair fell almost to his shoulders and he wore a small beard. He wore what looked like a suit of armor with a falcon blazoned on the chest, and in his hands held a diamond-shaped shield at his waist and a sword clapped at his chest.

“That,” Ormond said wearily, “Is Prince Robriand, the king's second-born.”

“I wasn't presented to him,” Rapunzel said, frowning at the image.

“No, and very likely you won't see him anytime soon,” Ormond muttered in what Rapunzel thought was an irritated tone. “He's off in the next kingdom slaying dragons and the like. All surrounded by heavy guard and never in a moment of danger of course, the king would never allow that.”

Rapunzel studied the statue, fascinated. “But the king allows him to leave the kingdom?”

“The king is thrilled he's away from the kingdom,” Ormond replied, but didn't elaborate further. “Come, the dipper for the fountain is right this way.”

“But - “ Rapunzel began, but Ormond was pulling on her hand, pulling her to the edge of the fountain before she could get a good look at the final statue. Frowning, she planted her feet and tugged her hand out of the steward's grasp, took two steps toward the fountain, and looked.

It was the smallest statue, as she knew it would be, but it was obviously done when the prince was younger as it depicted a child of perhaps twelve. The statue was set next to Robriand's but a few feet further away and the sculpting was not as smooth or polished as the others. Still there was no mistaking it was her prince – the face was round and smiling, and a shock of long hair was falling from his forehead over his eyes. He wore no crown but a cape covered his shoulders, and in his gloved hands he held a cluster of what looked like long vines.

The other thing Rapunzel noticed was that all of the statues were facing front, except for her prince. He was looking away, toward the distant glittering mystery.

Rapunzel stared at this for she wasn't sure how long, but it might have been only moments; then Ormond took her hand again, and she turned her head to see him looking at her impatiently.

“Sorry,” she muttered, but she wasn't, not really. When the steward gently tugged her hand toward the side of the fountain she followed, but she never took her eyes off the statue of her prince.

“No need to apologize,” the steward replied, although the vexed tone of his voice said otherwise. “Perfectly natural that you should be curious about Prince Jasen's statue, although as you can see it is not quite matched to the others.”

They had moved to the right side of the fountain now, and she could no longer see the likeness of her prince. So, she turned to look at Ormond instead, as they approached a small cluster of townsfolk who were gathered at the edge of the fountain. “What are those things he's holding?”

“Hm?” Ormond leaned back and squinted around the statues. “Oh – he was always climbing the rose trellises and whatever was growing up the side of the castle walls, I seem to remember he wouldn't even stand still so the sculptor could get a likeness. So I imagine those vines are a bit of an inside joke.”

Rapunzel bit her lip to keep from smiling too much at the steward's words, and the image of her prince climbing up anything he could find, even as a child! She had no trouble picturing that -

The steward turned away from her for a moment, and when he turned back Rapunzel saw that he had a child with him, a young dark-haired girl of perhaps eight wearing homespun clothes, holding a silver dipper dripping with bright, crystal-clear water. As Rapunzel met the child's brown eyes, the girl smiled and held up the dipper.

“Oh!” Rapunzel exclaimed, and smiled back, touched. She quickly knelt down to the girl's level and accepted the water. “Thank you!”

The girl looked down shyly and stepped back, her chin down but her eyes huge and fixed on Rapunzel in rapt wonder.

Rapunzel looked down at the water, so clear and pure it glowed like the water in the grotto. She drank it and kept her gaze down, at one honored and confused. These strangers were so quick to accept her! It was at once thrilling and terrifying, and for a moment Rapunzel wished her mother was there – her mother, who always knew how to explain things, who always answered Rapunzel's questions with such patience and kindness.

What am I going to do now, mother? She asked, staring down into the depths of the silver cup as if it held the answers. These people love me, my prince loves me, how can I keep them from coming to harm? How can I protect them when I don't even know what to protect them from? Those thorns – the danger – what if it's coming from you? Or someone stronger? How can I fight that when I couldn't even stay by my prince's side when the giant came?

What am I going to do?

Rapunzel felt a shy touch on her shoulder and looked up. The little girl was standing in front of her, eyes full of wonder and respect.

“Prince Jasen's lady, would you like some more water?” the child asked.

Rapunzel smiled and decided right then she wanted children of her own, someday. She nodded and handed the dipper back to the girl.

The girl skipped back to an older woman standing by the fountain, who Rapunzel guessed was the girl's mother. As Rapunzel watched the mother take the dipper and refill it from the fountain, she heard Ormond clear his throat behind her.

“Yes, I'm afraid the young prince's statue isn't quite the quality of the others,” the steward lamented as Rapunzel watched the mother refill the dipper and hand it to her daughter. “But then, there wasn't the need, you see, the king already had the progeny he required and a third legacy was considered...well, an afterthought.”

A little of the water spilled out of the dipper, splashing on the brightly tiled ground. The little girl winced, but the mother smiled at her anyway and smoothed her hair.

“Still, it all turned out all right,” the steward continued at Rapunzel's back. “There could have been a plague or some other accident I suppose, but now they've all grown and crowned...well, there was some talk that the youngest might be sent away for good, to guard our northern gates. Just so you're aware, miss. This might not be your permanent home.”

There was something hollow in the steward's tone, something that nagged at Rapunzel even as she knelt to accept the girl's second dipper of water. She smiled her thanks and stood, drinking it as she lifted her eyes and gazed on the glittering castle beyond her.

Not her home? Impossible. It was where her prince was, of course it was her home. She had never seen a body of water in her life, still had only seen the shimmering green-blue depths of the grotto, but there was something welcoming about the shimmering serenity of what she had seen, something that reminded her of a womb, of being born.

She had never known a home except for the tower where her mother had kept her, never seen a world that existed beyond the woods and her books. Now it was real, it existed, and it was wonderful! Her mother had warned her, always warned her of the wolves and the humans and how awful the outside world was but -

\- but oh, her mother was wrong! Rapunzel looked down at the little girl and almost wanted to cry with the revelation, so completely did it fill up her being. Her mother was wrong – humans were wonderful, her prince was everything to her and the wolves -

The wolves were not wolves, they were choking thorns and the frightened, possessive souls who cast the spells to create them. They were nameless threats of pain and darkness, and thoughtless stewards who didn't seem to even like her prince, or think he was worth much at all.

Her prince – Jasen – Rapunzel could see him, far ahead of them now, a small dark speck on a white horse, almost to the gates of the summer castle. Soon he would be inside, and she would join him, and maybe some witch would threaten them, or the village, or the kingdom, make walls of thorns grow or an earthquake happen or a giant appear. Maybe someone would try to hurt her prince again.

But they wouldn't succeed. They would never succeed, because her prince was magic, he had given her the world and she had not even known she wanted it until he came. And what could she give him in return that was more precious than her own magic, her love and whatever protection she could offer?

She could see wolves, and witches, and humans, and maybe he couldn't. Maybe nobody had ever shown him how to look. But she knew. She would look.

And she would never let anyone hurt him again.

The little girl was still there, smiling up at Rapunzel, her small hands held up to receive the dipper.

Rapunzel smiled at her, kneeling down and placing the dipper in those tiny fingers. Impulsively, she reached up and patted the girl's head with one gloved hand.

“Thank you,” she said, and met the girl's smile with one of her own. “What's your name?”

“Tessa.”

Ormond cleared his throat again, impatiently. “We should be on our way, miss.”

“All right,” Rapunzel said, although it wasn't really, but she did not have the authority to make her own rules. Yet. She glanced from the girl to her mother and back again. “Thank you for the water, Miss Tessa. Mind your mother.”

The girl nodded, happily Rapunzel noted. Rapunzel stood and smiled at the young mother, who had stepped forward to collect her daughter. The woman smiled back, warmly.

“Welcome to our kingdom, miss,” she said.

“Thank you,” Rapunzel answered, and shook the images of thorns and giants from her mind. No, such threats would not get within a hundred yards of this kingdom's gates, not if she could help it. And she would help it, she and her prince together. “I'm sure I'll love it here.”

Ormond coughed, loudly. Rapunzel gathered her skirts and made to turn toward the carriage.

Before she could move, however, the mother, little girl, and every person in the square bowed and curtsied to her.

Rapunzel paused, awestruck for a moment and unsure what to do. She had been bowed and curtsied to at the other palace before, but this felt different. It felt like a promise, and a request. From the whole town -

“Do not curtsey back,” came Ormond's words, very low and commanding. “Please get in the carriage, miss, we don't want to be late to the castle.”

Rapunzel heeded those words, only because she had none of her own to return. But she knew that that, too, would change, one day. She gave the gathered townsfolk one last smile, accepted the steward's hand back into the carriage, and as the horses were prodded on their way, waved to the assembled cheering of the crowd.

And, when Ormond wasn't looking, she blew a kiss to the smallest statue at the fountain, its hands grasping the stony vines and its eyes cast ever outward to the sea.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The rest of Rapunzel's journey to the palace played out much the same as the beginning had. The carriage rattled on its gradual upward way through the street, and throngs of townspeople lined the way to wave and smile at her. She smiled and waved back, feeling a little more comfortable than she had at the start of her journey, and wondered if this was what coming home felt like. She decided she liked it.

Ormand sat silently beside her, neither smiling nor waving to the townfolk. Instead, she noticed every time she glanced that way that he was simply watching her – keenly, the way her mother did sometimes when she was trying to catch Rapunzel out in a fib. He seemed to be studying everything – her hands, her hair, the dress she wore.

Probably he's curious about where I came from, Rapunzel thought, and tried to think of some good fibs to tell in case he did. But he stayed silent the entire rest of the journey, and did not say another word even as the carriage approached an arched gateway set in the middle of the high stone walls surrounding the castle. Two guards stood there, dressed in maroon velvet, and when the carriage approached they opened the iron gates and let the carriage through; and Rapunzel was inside the castle grounds.

The carriage clattered into a large cobblestone courtyard, curved in shape and adorned with various flowering plants and small decorative trees. Along the inside walls Rapunzel noticed several inlaid mosaics and paintings, like the one at the fountain, scenes of curving blue circles and strange creatures she'd never seen before. She should have been frightened, but she surprised herself by feeling thrilled.

It was the world. It was exactly what she wanted. And her prince was there.

The prince – Rapunzel glanced at the small group of horsemen gathered a short distance away, near a large set of stairs that led into the castle. Her prince was still there, still on his horse and talking to Yates, who had dismounted. The rest of the escort was slowly riding their horses through another archway at the edge of the courtyard, and in a few moments they were gone.

A moment later the prince stood to dismount and Rapunzel instinctively stood too, to leave the carriage and join him. She only got as far as gathering her skirts in both hands, however, when she felt a sudden hand on her right arm and looked up to see Ormand looking at her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone a little surprised.

Rapunzel blinked in confusion. "I'm – we're home, aren't we? I'm going to meet my prince - "

"Ah – no," Ormand said in the exact same tone Rapunzel's mother had used when refusing her daughter another helping of sweets. "No, my dear, you will wait here until the attendant fetches you. Then you are to be presented to the castle staff."

Oh, Rapunzel mouthed silently, and reluctantly let go of her skirts. She watched glumly as the prince lightly dismounted his horse and shook his blond hair out of his eyes, looking back at her carriage as he removed his gloves. Their eyes met and he waved to her; she waved back, maybe too enthusiastically for the steward's liking but she didn't care. The prince grinned, shrugged, and spread out his arms as if to say, "Can you believe all this?"

Rapunzel shrugged and shook her head. No, I can't!

The prince grinned wider and looked around. A young man in light-colored velvets was standing nearby, fiddling with a banner on a pole, and the prince tapped him on the shoulder and motioned toward Rapunzel. The young man nodded, set the banner down, and began walking toward the carriage.

"Well," Ormand remarked drily as he retrieved his silver-tipped walking stick from the corner of the carriage. "It seems you can communicate with His Highness without even speaking. Are you by any chance a sorceress?"

Rapunzel laughed to cover up her sudden fright – the way Ormand said the word told her that he wouldn't like the answer if he heard it, and she wasn't about to begin discussing her family tree. She only wanted to get out of that carriage, and go join her prince.

The footman was already waiting at the carriage door, and as it was opened and Ormand exited, Rapunzel noticed that there was a small group of people gathering in a line on the castle stairs, leading up to the ornate double doors. She only had a moment to gaze at them, however, before Ormand cleared his throat, and she saw that he was out of the carriage and held out his hand to her as he waited at the door.

"Right this way, miss," Ormand declared as soon as Rapunzel had exited the carriage, but to her surprise he did not lead her to the door of the castle himself, but handed her off to the attendant and walked beside both of them. She looked up at the doorway just in time to see the prince disappearing inside, and felt another pang of longing. She'd only been separated from him for ten minutes, but it felt like forever.

"My lady," Ormand began, his voice becoming more loud and self-important as they approached the line of waiting servants, "May present the staff of the summer castle, who will be attending to your needs during your stay here. This," Ormand continued, gesturing with his walking-stick, "is Gelsey, she is in charge of the kitchen, the cooking and the gardens."

Rapunzel found herself facing a tall, stout woman with a florid face and straying strands of brown-gray hair tucked beneath a flounced cap. The woman dipped a slight curtsey and smiled. "Miss."

Not knowing quite what to do, Rapunzel nodded acknowledgment and kept moving.

"This is Durwin," Ormand continued, indicating a slender middle-aged man with short curly hair and a round face. "he is our physician and herbalist and looks after the physical well-being of the household. He's also acting as court counsel, while the official one is travelling with Prince Robriand."

"They keep me busy so I stay out of trouble," Durwin remarked with a sly twinkle in his brown eyes. He smiled and gave a courtly bow. "Pleased to meet you, miss."

Rapunzel smiled back and glanced to the man's left. Now they were going up the stairs, one at a time, and she found herself facing a woman about her mother's age, dressed in an unadorned but well-cut dark blue dress that set off her shoulder-length dark hair.

"This is Nadine, the keeper of the ladies' wardrobe," Ormand explained. "She'll be looking after your clothes and other dressing necessities while you're here."

"Yes," Nadine exclaimed, and took both of Rapunzel's hands in hers; she had warm hands, warm and strong. "And we'll have a wonderful time, won't we, dear? I have some new fabrics that I've been dying to try and you have the perfect complexion for them! Just perfect - "

"Moving on," Ormand interrupted, taking Rapunzel's arm and gently but insistently pulling her from Nadine. Now they were at the top of the stairs, at the doorway leading into the palace. "Because we don't want to perturb this gentleman. This is Piersley, the royal culinary master of the summer palace and arranger of all aspects of our meals."

Piersley, a heavyset middle-aged man with a jovial face, seemed to puff up bigger at each of Ormand's words until he was beaming with pride. As he met Rapunzel's eyes he bowed low, spreading his arms in a showy way, and Rapunzel had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. As he straightened she saw her prince suddenly appear from the darkness of the doorway, smiling at Rapunzel and Piersley by turn.

"A pleasure to meet you, miss," Piersley declared in a way that was even grander than his manner. "And an even greater pleasure to say that every word the steward says is true! Your highness, word has been received that you and your lady are both famished and so a wonderful meal has been prepared for your homecoming, and I have arranged for it to be served in the Emerald Room."

Rapunzel barely heard the man's words, because now her prince was right beside her, moving swiftly to stand between her and the steward, smiling down at her with a brilliance to block out the sun. Without even thinking about it she threaded her right hand through his left elbow and felt his right hand cover hers, as he had done at the wedding.

She was home now. Nothing else mattered.

"The Emerald Room!" the prince repeated happily, glancing from Rapunzel to Piersley. "Have you sent word to my grandfather then?"

"Of course," Piersley replied proudly. "As soon as word reached us a message was sent. It takes such a long time to reach him, you know, but I'm certain by the time you've washed and seated yourselves, he will be present."

"That's splendid news!" the prince beamed, pressing his hand against the Rapunzel's and smiling even wider. "My dear, you'll be able to meet my grandfather, I know you'll love him. Everybody does, right, Ormand?"

Ormand pursed his lips and sighed. "Everyone who can get a word in edgewise."

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" the prince exulted, "This calls for special celebration. Ormand, please go to the wine cellar and ask Walters to send a bottle of his best wine and two glasses to the emerald room."

Rapunzel glanced at Ormand just in time to see the steward pause, then bow to the prince and retreat into the shadows of the doorway.

"Yes, this really is a special day!" the prince exulted, and smiled hugely at the line of people as he took Rapunzel's hand. "Thank you, everybody!"

As the servants bowed to them both, Rapunzel nodded and said, "Yes, thank you all so much. I feel very welcome already!"

Everyone was smiling back at her, and a moment later the prince took her hand and puller her toward the door of the castle so eagerly she barely had time to gather her skirts, and she giggled at his enthusiasm.

"Come, my darling, let's get washed up right away!" the prince chirped. "I can't wait for you to meet grandfather. I just know you're going to love it here!"

Rapunzel ran after him, laughing and knowing that what her prince said was true. She did love it there. This was her world, the one she'd always wanted, and she loved it already. Loved it because her prince loved it, and everyone loved him.

Everyone except Ormand. Rapunzel saw Ormand's face after the prince asked him to go order the special wine, and she thought the look on the steward's face was very odd, insulted and angry at the same time.

Then Rapunzel decided she had to be wrong, because the steward had no reason not to love her prince and really, she knew nothing about the world, to draw such conclusions. So she looked into the prince's laughing blue eyes and followed him into the summer castle, and put the thought out of her head.

The wine cellar at the summer castle was deep beneath the main floor, down many flights of cold stone stairs. Down every one of these stairs Ormand went, pulling his velvet robes around himself to keep away the chill that grew danker and clung more greedily the further down he went.

Finally he reached the bottom of the last flight of stairs; only the castle's largely-unused dungeon went deeper. He reached the last step, walked the short distance through the passageway carved from the solid sea-rock of the castle's foundation, and finally reached the lanternlit rooms that housed the castle's wine cellar.

Walters was there, as Ormand knew he'd be. The castle's wine butler was a large, florid bald man in his middle years, muscular from ages of moving and storing wines and ales and arrogant from all that time spent being the only man in the castle to really know anything about them. He was tapping a dusty keg that was sitting in its dock beside a large wooden table when Ormand entered the room. The loud noise of the steward's boots on the wood-laid floor made Walters look up.

"Oh, it's you," Walters said in a bored, flat voice, and went back to the tap. "What do you want?"

"What I want - " Ormand began, then paused and shook his robes out. He took a deep breath and began again. "What I want, is nothing I can get here. What I have been asked, is to let you know that His Highness the prince requests a bottle of your best wine for his dinner this evening. Kindly have it sent to the Emerald Room."

At these words Walters looked up at Ormand, and turned off the tap. "Prince Jasen's back?"

"Yes," Ormand sighed, and setting his walking-stick down on the table with a sharp clack pulled up a wooden stool and plunked himself angrily down on it. "Came shimmering back this afternoon, as if he hadn't been away for close to seven years. And he brought a girl with him."

"A girl!" Walters coughed, and turning back to the tap moved aside the full cup of ale he'd just poured and set an empty cup in its place. "The one the scullery maids were talking about? They said him and his brother both got married a few weeks ago."

"Yes, well, as usual the scullery maids have soap bubbles in their brains," Ormand growled, and made a face as he leaned on the table and crossed his arms over the wine-stained wood. "According to the messengers, Prince Maxim's marriage didn't last long enough for the ink to dry on the wedding certificate, and I haven't a notion what the story is with this girl, except there's no wedding ring on her finger. She's damned peculiar."

"Is she pretty?" Walters asked as he set the full glass of ale in front of Ormand with a thump.

"Oh, who knows?" Ormand shrugged as he grasped the glass. "I barely bothered to look at her. The only thing I noticed was that her dress has netting on it that I would swear is fairy fabric. The king's first wife was mad for that piffery and I know from experience it's damned expensive stuff. I'm curious to know where a peasant girl got it from."

"Well, you could always ask her," Walters commented as he opened the tap and began filling the second glass.

"She wouldn't tell me," Ormand predicted, and took a drink. As he set the glass down he shook his head. "I barely got three words out of her the entire ride to the castle. The way she stared at the townfolk you'd think she's never seen people before. As I said, damned peculiar."

"Eh," Walters turned off the tap and shifted himself and the full ale glass to the table, and sat down. "Give it a week and she'll be turned out into the woods again. If Jasen's anything like his father it won't take three sundowns till he's sick of her."

"But there's the thing," Ormand said sourly, and lifted the glass again. "The prince is completely taken with her. I didn't tell you where I picked the two of them up."

Walters took a slug of ale, then set the mug down. "Where?"

"The grotto."

Walters' eyebrows went up. "Damn. He is serious."

"Very," the word slithered resentfully out of Ormand's mouth and would have thudded against the table like a depressed slug if it had been a live thing. He glared at the mottled wood as if he could see every hated letter. "He's talking to his grandfather tonight, she's already been presented to the staff and if that giant hadn't attacked the kingdom they probably would have created a new brat by now."

"And that's what's bothering you, isn't it?" Walters guessed with a smirk, and took another drink of ale. "Out with it, you know I'm a friend and there's nobody can hear."

"Yes," Ormand muttered. Then, louder, "Yes, and why shouldn't it bother me?" He sat up straight on the rickety stool. "It should bother you too Walters, you know how this kingdom is run. The king is a - well, was a strumpet chasing profligate. He begets two sons, one as vain and arrogant as he is and the next so drunk with glory and conquest that he can't stay in his own kingdom."

"But while they were young, you were regent. That should have made things easy for you," Walters mentioned, and took another drink of ale.

"Yes, it should have," Ormand made a sour face and glared at his ale. "There are dark things in those woods, Walters, and with the right timing and a well-timed unfortunate hunting accident a steward can become a king. No heir, no spare, and a king too crippled by his own vices to rule. It should have been easy."

"Woulda been if the first queen hadn't died," Walters shook his head and set the glass down. "'Course by then Maxim and Robriand were almost old enough to rule, they didn't need a regent any more. So you were lucky when the king married again and got his new bride pregnant."

"Lucky only because the new prince of the summer castle needed a regent," Ormand groused as he glared at Walters across the table. "But once Prince Jasen came of age I went back to being a lowly steward again. The king won't be begetting any more sons, and as long as his two idiot older offspring don't have any legitimate heirs the path to the throne is still reasonably short - "

"But if Prince Jasen takes that strange girl for his wife, you can bet he'll be makin' heirs," Walters grinned. "And then the path gets longer again."

"Exactly," Ormand growled, and took a long pull on the glass of ale. He set it down with a morose thump.

"Hm," Walters drained his cup, then tilted it in the lanternlight, gazing at the remnants of froth sliding down the inside of the thick glass. "Well, there's always those dark things in the woods. You could always ask 'em for an unfortunate accident."

Ormand tilted his head thoughtfully, then shook it. "No. Not yet. It might not be necessary."

"So what are you going to do?" Walters asked as he watched Ormand push the half-full ale cup away from himself and stand, the stool screeching against the wood floor as he did so.

"I haven't quite decided," Ormand admitted as he snapped up his walking-stick and shook out his robes. "But if there's one thing I've learned from thirty years of dealing with this wretched family, it's that certain members of it are obsessed with appearances. I may be able to use that to my advantage, and dislodge this Rapunzel person without having to resort to magic at all."

"Rapunzel?" Walters repeated, his face twisted in disbelief. "The prince brought home a girl named after a vegetable?"

"Yes, and it would be amusing if she wasn't so rudely standing directly in my way," Ormand paused, contemplating the ornate silver knob at the top of his walking-stick. A moment later he looked up and leveled a look at Walters. "You'll find the wine and have it delivered to the Emerald Room? The prince asked for the very best in the castle."

Walters stood and nodded. "Tell His Highness it's on its way. I know right where that wine is too, if I remember you gave to me yourself years ago. For when you were crowned king, you said."

"Yes, that's the one," Ormand replied, and turned toward the passageway and path upstairs.

"Good thing you gave me two bottles."

Ormand was at the doorway and paused; his eyes narrowed as he stared into the chilly gloom ahead.

"Yes," he said simply, and left the room, the tapping of his cane echoing like a drumbeat behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five

As Rapunzel walked through the arched doorway and stepped foot inside the summer castle, the first thought that struck her was: This doesn't look like the king's castle at all!

She had wondered, on their journey to the sea, whether the summer castle would echo the forbidding square structure that the king and the crown prince called home. She had thought, then, that of course it would; and remembered with disappointment the cold gray walls with their gloomy tapestries, the high narrow windows that let in no sunlight at all, and the chill that hung in the damp air all the time, even when fires blazed in the grates.

She had not liked the palace much, not really. She was used to the graceful, delicate lines of her own tower, the flowers that hung from the rafters, the sweet smell of spring at her window. To her the palace seemed like a grudging parent who stood with arms crossed while the child begged to be picked up and held.

Yet, she had said to herself, if the summer palace was indeed that cold and distant, at least her prince would be there so for him she would smile and bear it. For him, with the laughing blue eyes that beckoned with adventure, she would endure the chill and the gloom and the shadows.

Now she was there, and the depth of how wrong she had been took her breath away.

The difference was immediate, from the moment Rapunzel stepped foot through the doorway. Here were no low ceilings and dim rooms lit by uncertain, flickering torches even in the daytime.

Light! The room was bright with it, flooded with so much sun that almost it seemed as if they were still outside. Rapunzel stopped at the door's threshold and stared at the grand hall before her, unable to take everything in at once.

The hall was huge, not square like the rooms at the palace but round, the walls plastered in a warm ivory color that glowed with the reflected afternoon sun. The ceiling was high above her, a domed ceiling painted with stars and clouds that arched over a wall of stained-glass windows at the other end of the hall, windows that reached from the floor to the golden rim of the dome. In front of that window a grand staircase curved from the tiled floor to doorways on the second floor. The stairway had no back, and seemed to be floating in mid-air.

Rapunzel gazed at it in wonder. Her eyes darted from the staircase to the gilded paintings hanging on the wall, to the vases and statues that lined the entrance hall from front to back. She had never seen objects like those, not even in her books -

Then she heard a light laugh and felt a tug on her hand. She turned and her prince was there, smiling at her.

"Everything all right?" he asked, but of course he knew the answer.

Rapunzel nodded, waving at the treasures in front of her. "It's all so – where did it come from? Those windows, what's on them? They - "

"It's amazing, isn't it?" The prince exclaimed, taking both of Rapunzel's hands in his. "I'll show it all to you, every piece, I promise, but right now we have to get ready to have dinner with my grandfather."

"Get ready?" Rapunzel repeated, and looked down at herself. Her dress was dusty and smudged from the journey, and her hands were mottled with dirt from the long road. "Yes, I suppose I should wash up - "

"You and me both!" the prince exclaimed, and nodded toward a nearby archway where Nadine was waiting. "Now you go with Nadine, she'll find you a fresh dress and get you all cleaned up and I'll meet you here in half an hour! All right?"

Rapunzel hesitated. This new world was so dazzling and unfamiliar that she almost couldn't absorb it all. And to leave her prince's side! They were only just reunited...she glanced toward the doorway to see Nadine standing there, smiling.

"Come on, dear!" the woman said, beckoning with one plump hand. "We'll freshen you up and you'll be surprised how much better you feel! Right this way."

"Well - " Rapunzel turned toward her prince, met those impossible blue eyes. "Don't go far! I'll be waiting for you."

"And I'll be right here!" the prince replied, and gave her a quick kiss. "And I'll smell much better, promise."

And with that he was gone, trotting up the floating staircase and through the multicolored sunlight. Rapunzel watched him ascend with a dart of uncertainty, until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned to see Nadine at her side.

"Now, I know this is all new to you, miss," the older woman said, "But just relax, I've been doing this since long before you were born and you'll be all washed and ready for dinner before you can blink twice. Come on, the royal washroom is right this way."

And so Rapunzel was introduced to the royal washroom at the summer castle and the ableness of Nadine's direction. It felt very strange to go into the quartz-tiled dressing room and removed her ribboned dress – she had been wearing it her entire adult life, only removing it to bathe in her tower's porcelain tub, and she had never known another article of clothing. Her mother had made it, or had it made, or perhaps cast a spell to bring it into being. In any case, it was the only thing Rapunzel had left of her old life. Her hair was gone, her mother was gone. All that was left was the pink ribboned dress.

And now it lay in a grayish heap of tangled ribbons and mud-stained netting, crumpled on the floor of the dressing room while Rapunzel quickly crossed into the large, sunny, alabastar-walled bathing room and stepped into a copper tub full of wonderfully hot water.

She'd had no idea how dusty she had felt until she washed, no realization of the miles and weariness that still clung to her skin until she lathered creamy soap over her arms and legs and washed it away, revealing fresh pink skin beneath.

And her hair – after it was cut short she had only washed her hair once, in the bathing-room at the king's palace. It was a cold, dark room that made her shiver when she washed, and she could not wait to get out of there. That was the first time in her life she had ever washed her hair, and she barely remembered it.

But here it seemed everything was warmer, more inviting, and more special. Nadine told Rapunzel to "Close your eyes!" and poured a copper pitcher of warm water over her hair, drenching the locks. She worked her strong fingers through Rapunzel's hair, massaging her scalp and keeping up a steady stream of chatter all the while.

"Here now, we'll get your hair nice and clean and won't you be a sight for your young prince! And you'll feel so much better, after we've gotten the dust and the grime and the – leaves and...hm, a few bits of straw...and – my, we have had an adventure, haven't we? Anyway, you must be very special, miss, I haven't seen Prince Jasen beam like this since his mother was alive! We'll pick a pretty dress for you and you're just going to love the Emerald Chamber, it's the only one like it in the kingdom you know! And tomorrow we'll get you a whole new wardrobe - "

In that way Rapunzel's hair was washed, rinsed, and washed again, and all the while she heard about how happy the castle staff was that there was a young lady to take care of in the castle again, and how even the king didn't have a dressmaker like Nadine, and how it was "just like springtime," now that the prince was home and his grandfather was coming for a visit.

Rapunzel was fascinated. Her mother never talked like Nadine did, and no one at the king's palace was this kind. Questions came to her mind, dozens of them, but there was time for those questions tomorrow. Her hair was rinsed once more, dried off, and before she knew it she was standing in front of a mirror in the dressing room, wearing a simple pale-green cotton gown and feeling like she was born in it.

"I knew this would fit you the moment I saw you!" Nadine said proudly as she finished brushing Rapunzel's hair away from her face. "It's not fancy but it's finely made, and there are even pockets sewn into the side-seams if you need them. And those slippers are a perfect fit too. Are you comfortable, dear?"

Rapunzel lifted the lightweight skirt and looked at the flat linen slippers she now wore on her feet. So different from the constricting high-heeled shoes that always seemed a little too tight! She felt like she could run forever in these. She smiled at Nadine and nodded.

"It's all wonderful. Thank you!"

"Oh, I'm just getting started, my dear," Nadine grinned, and took Rapunzel's hand. "When I'm through the crown princess herself will not have such a wardrobe! But for now, let's get you to your prince!"

Rapunzel nodded eagerly – she hadn't even thought of it before, but now that she had bathed and changed she felt truly new, and couldn't wait to share herself with her beloved. Nadine led her out of the room and she ran down the hall, and never looked back at the ribboned dress again.

A clock was chiming somewhere, light silvery chimes, as Rapunzel hurried down the hall and back into the grand entranceway. Nadine was just in front of her, but as they reached the spot where she and her prince had parted Nadine stepped aside and suddenly there he was.

Rapunzel stopped short and gasped. She had never seen her prince in anything but the black and silver leather livery he wore, not even at the king's palace. Now he stood before her in a richly woven velvet doublet of deep green-blue and dark gray trousers and boots, his hair freshly washed and gleaming like spun gold in the afternoon sunlight.

He's not real, she thought, strangely, then she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

The prince laughed and kissed her back, finished with a peck on the nose. "You looked wonderful too, love, but I want you to meet my grandfather, he's probably waiting for us. Come on!"

Her head swimming with all of the amazing things she was experiencing, Rapunzel nodded, gathered up her skirts in one hand, and followed her prince through a nearby arch set in green stones, and down a wide flight of stairs.

Down the stairs. Rapunzel glanced around at the walls of the circular stairway, which changed from the warm ivory plaster to a pebbly mixture of various sea-stones, and clearing her throat said, "I thought we were going to dine with your grandfather."

"We are!" the prince chirped, his joyful words echoing off the stairway walls.

Rapunzel glanced around again. They were still descending, and the air was changing, becoming saltier, like the air in the grotto. "This – is the way to the dining hall? It's underground? At your father's palace - "

"Oh, there isn't a lot here that's like it is at my father's palace!" The prince interrupted with a shake of his head, but still he sounded happy. "Don't worry, my love, you'll see. We're almost there, he'll love you, I know it. You'll see!"

Rapunzel had a sudden thought, and her heart sank. "Is your grandfather – is this like where your mother is?"

"Oh! No," the prince replied, trotting even more quickly down the stony steps. "No, he's very much alive, he's still young in fact. I'm sorry, I should have told you that, of course you'd think – here we are, the Emerald Chamber!"

Before Rapunzel could catch her breath she was being led through another archway, and as soon as she was through the prince let go of her hand and she found herself standing in the most beautiful room she had ever seen.

It was not a large room, maybe a little bigger than the bedroom in her tower, and like her tower it was round, but the walls were not made of sea stone or brick they were -

Emeralds. The entire room was encrusted with glittering green gems, from pale whitish stones  
to greens so deep they seemed black. Everywhere Rapunzel looked there were sparkling gems, set in patterns and curving waves that made the entire room seem like an underground chamber that she was swimming in, and she had never swum in her life.

Each glittering mosaic of stones was separated by an alabaster pillar, giving the room a regal look, and from the curved ceiling more emeralds hung, small cut stones suspended by silver wire as if they rained from a crystalline sky. The room was brightly lit by several scalloped lamps set in the curving wall, creating a kaleidoscope of sparkling color that seemed to make the room sing.

For a moment Rapunzel just stared, unable to breathe. Finally she blinked and looked at the prince in astonishment. "You...live here?"

"No, but I eat here!" the prince replied jovially, and at that minute a tiny silver sound came from somewhere in the room. "Oo! In fact, right about now. Come right over here, dearest. Grandfather will be here in just a moment."

Rapunzel looked in the direction of the sound, thinking she would see a table properly set for visiting royalty. What she saw instead confused her: At the far end of the room was no table, but only what looked like a pool of deep blue water, set apart from the floor by a wide, low curved wall that resembled a very low table, encrusted with the same gems that adorned the rest of the room. On the table-wall sat several covered serving dishes, three napkin-covered plates and tableware, and two empty wine glasses. On the floor in front of these arrangements several overstuffed cushions had been placed, and it was here that the prince quickly led Rapunzel and seated himself down.

Rapunzel gathered her skirts to sit, then hesitated. Maybe this was a joke. "We're eating – on the floor?"

"Oh, don't let grandfather hear you say that!" The prince warned with a smile, and plucked the napkin from his plate. "No, you'll see in a few moments. See the chain? He's coming up now."

Confused, Rapunzel followed the prince's pointing finger and noticed a thick, glimmering silver chain that was quickly moving along a pulley suspended from the ceiling and being reeled into a nearby spool. Moving backwards, flinging water from it like tiny stars, beginning at the spool and ending in -

Rapunzel followed the chain to the pool of water and her eyes widened. "He's coming up? From – oh -"

Suddenly the water erupted.

"JASEN MY BOY!" Rapunzel heard, but all she saw was a huge fountain of water exploding from the middle of the pool, and something in the center of it. She screeched and fell backwards, flinging her arms up in front her face -

\- and instantly felt familiar arms around her, and her prince's voice, very close. "Whoops! You all right?"

Rapunzel realized she'd closed her eyes and opened them, finding her prince's face only inches from her own. "Yes, but – the water! "

"Yes, well, he likes showy entrances!" the prince laughed, and his face was flushed with joy as he turned toward the pool, his eyes bright and glistening with happy tears. Rapunzel followed his gaze, and her jaw dropped.

There was a man in the pool. No – not a man, not as she understood the word, for certainly no human man could calmly sit in the center of a roiling mass of sea-foam! This being was huge, twice the size of the prince, broad-shouldered and muscular, a cascading mass of reddish-brown hair covering his head and a matching length cascading from his chin over his massive chest.

His face – what Rapunzel could see of it – looked ruddy and friendly, and he was looking at her prince with two large green-blue eyes that were almost hidden by the gigantic smile that dimpled his cheeks. In one hand he held something wrapped in what looked like slick dark-green cloth; the other hand held a large silver lantern, the flame still burning inside it even though it was dripping wet. A large round metal weight swayed from the bottom as he lifted it in the air.

"I got your message and sped up as fast as I could!" the man exclaimed, his voice booming in the room like thunder as he hung the lantern on a nearby hook. "It's been years, my boy, years! Far too long!"

"Grandfather!" The prince exclaimed, and after carefully setting Rapunzel on her feet again he rushed into the larger man's – being's – enormous outstretched arms and was almost completely swallowed up by their embrace. "It's so good to see you again!"

"Oh, don't be telling me that!" came the chiding reply. "Tell your multitude of cousins, who haven't heard a single syllable from you or been summoned for even a brief visit in endless cycles of the tides. I forgive you because I know of the life of a prince, but they'll be harder to placate I can assure you!"

"I'm sorry, grandfather," The prince laughed as he pulled away, now quite dripping from head to toe but he didn't seem to mind it at all. He took a few steps backwards until he was standing next to Rapunzel, and took her hand firmly and happily. "But I've returned from my adventures and I have news. Grandfather, I'd like you to meet my only love. Rapunzel, this is the father of my mother, King Daenas of the western sea."

Rapunzel stared open-mouthed for a moment, so thrown she could not remember what to do. Finally her brain started working again and she gathered her skirts, making a low curtsey.

"Your M-majesty," she stammered. She looked down at her hands clutching her skirts and realized she was shaking. When she straightened – slowly, so she wouldn't fall over – she saw King Daenas regarding her with a gentle smile.

"I am very pleased to meet you, my dear!" he exclaimed in the same booming voice, but the tone was gentler now, quieter. "But what was that you did just now?"

"It's – um – it's what I was taught to do before royalty," Rapunzel explained in a small voice. Had she made a mistake? "I was told to do it before the king at the palace..."

"Oh! That explains it," Daenas replied, and set the wrapped parcel in the waves bobbing beside him. "My dear, I am not the king at the palace and you never need to show such deference to me. I much prefer those hugs you humans are so fond of giving! May I please have one of those?"

Rapunzel blinked – this was not what she was expecting! Even though she had never gotten to see the king she had heard he was distant and aloof, and thought all royalty was like that, to be shown respect from afar. But Daenas opened his huge arms wide and smiled so graciously that she approached him without hesitation, and wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go, which was not very far.

"Ah, isn't that better?" Daenas rumbled as he enveloped Rapunzel in a warm hug – surprisingly warm, considering he was still very damp. "Welcome to the family, Rapunzel, I can see you have a very adventurous nature, it's no wonder that Jasen fell in love with you!"

"Thank you," Rapunzel replied as the king released her and she stepped back, feeling thoroughly welcomed and – she feared – wringing wet. When she looked down at her dress, however, she was shocked to find it completely dry.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, and lifting up the skirts fluttered them in her hands. "I'm sorry, I thought they would be - "

The prince laughed and put his arm around Rapunzel's shoulders. "Grandfather is king of the water, beloved, every drop obeys his command. Remember those big waves when he showed up? Look at the table settings, your napkin doesn't have a drop on it."

Rapunzel looked down. It was true; There wasn't any water on the floor at all, and her napkin still sat tented in the middle of the plate, completely dry.

"But - " she looked at the prince, at his clothes and hair. "But what about you? You're drenched!"

"I'm his grandson, and I'm used to it!" the prince laughed, raking one hand through his dampened locks as he stepped toward the pillows. "Come on, let's eat. What do you think of her, grandfather? Isn't she lovely?"

"Lovely!" Daenas repeated in a scoffing tone as the roiling waters around him subsided until he was level with the raised wall where the dining settings were arranged. "I'll never understand your human world and its preoccupation with physical appearance!"

The prince was helping Rapunzel arrange herself on the pillows, and as he plopped himself down beside her and crossed his legs he frowned. "What do you mean? You don't think - "

"Oh, pull your spines in, child, of course I think she's lovely!" Daenas replied as he pulled the napkin from his own plate. "It's just that when you've lived and loved as long as I have you come to realize the absolute unimportance of such temporary things. You'll learn that in your own time, of course. Now! What culinary delights has Piersley created for us today?"

The prince pushed the covered serving platters over from the edge of the wall to the center of the table and lifted the lids. "Looks like braised beef tips in a red wine sauce, with onions and potatoes."

"Wonderful!" Daenas grinned, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Rapunzel. "The chef here really is a master, and he knows how I love the dishes featuring land animals. As you might imagine, we don't eat beef very often underwater! Ha! Ah, and here's the wine!"

Rapunzel looked over her shoulder and saw a young page entering the room, carrying a dusty bottle of dark red wine. The page – a dark-haired lad who couldn't have been more than ten, dressed in satin red-and gold livery – approached the prince with the bottle and bowed, then straightened, staring at Daenas wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Thank you!" the prince replied, taking the bottle with a smile. "We'll pour it ourselves. I guess you've never met King Daenas?"

The boy shook his head so strongly his hair flopped in his face.

"Oh, don't tease the lad, Jasen!" Daenas huffed, pushing himself a little higher in the water. "I haven't been invited since you left to join your brothers at the palace and this boy was an infant then! Pleased to meet you, son."

"Uh!" the page gulped, and took a hasty step backward and bowed again. "Yer Majesty, I – I'm sorry, I mean, they told me stories but I din't – I mean - "

"Oh, quite all right, don't worry about it!" Daenas said with a wave of his gigantic hand, sending drops of water shimmering across the room. "It's the same all over, we merfolk live beneath the waves and you land-dwellers hardly remember the existence of anyone other than yourselves! Unless a fairy or a giant comes calling, of course."

"Uh..." the page took a hasty breath, backed up another step and didn't seem to know what to do, so he bowed again. "Do you require anything else, Your Highness? Um, Highnesses? Esses?"

"No, thank you," The prince laughed, and nodded at the page beneficently. "We can serve ourselves, this will be a long dinner and that way it will spare the servants from listening to all of our talk. Oh, when you get upstairs tell Ormand to make sure the bedchambers are aired out, and have him see if there's any royal business I need to attend to before we retire."

"Yes, Your Highness," the page squeaked, and never taking his huge eyes off Daenas, scooted as fast as he could backwards out of the room.

"Ah, now that's what I miss!" Daenas sighed as he lifted his empty wine glass and held it out to the prince. "The time was when I came here almost every day, and always I was looked at with reverence and awe! It was quite heady, I assure you, and much preferable to the reality of being the ruler of a kingdom where everyone knows your true worth."

"I remember those days!" The prince grinned as he poured the wine. "Mother used to bring me down here twice a week so I could dine with you. The stories and songs I heard! Rapunzel, I can't wait to share to have you hear them too."

"I can't wait either!" Rapunzel replied as she picked up her glass. "I'm sorry if I seem a little overwhelmed, it's just – I didn't even know there were people who lived underwater, and you're the ruler of them! It's like a whole other world to me!"

"Yes, and you don't shrink from it, do you?" Daenas boomed as he lifted the now-full wine glass. "That's what makes her perfect for you, my boy, not her physical beauty but her courage! Your story is not an ordinary one either, I gather?"

"Um - " Rapunzel blushed and glanced at her prince, who had filled all three wine glasses and was now setting the bottle down on the floor with a decisive thump. "No – well – that is - "

"I thought not! Tremendous! A toast to the both of you!" Daenas raised his glass, and Rapunzel quickly picked up her glass and followed suit. "May your lives together be as long as the endless tides, as full as the bountiful sea, and as blessed as the countless stars in the heavens!"

"Cheers!" the prince exclaimed, and he and Daenas clinked their glasses together. Rapunzel – who had only seen a toast performed once, at the wedding dinner of Cinderella and Prince Maxim – quickly remembered what to do, tapped her glass to theirs, and took a sip of the wine.

It was dark and strong, not bitter but not sweet like the grape-wine her mother made for her when she was a child. For some reason it reminded Rapunzel of waking up in her prince's arms after they'd been sleeping in the dovecote. Close, musky, heady. She liked it.

"Ah, this is an excellent wine!" Daenas declared, lifting the glass upward and watching as the lights made the wine glow a sparkling burgundy. "And now, let us enjoy this wonderful meal Piersley has prepared and as we eat I will tell you all about my underwater kingdom, my dear."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Rapunzel exclaimed as she set down her glass.

"Yes, it will be," Daenas predicted as he smiled at the two of them and the prince picked up some nearby silver utensils to serve the dinner. "But first I want to hear all about how the two of you met, the dangers you encountered and what you came through to get here. Because unless my eyes have dimmed from too much seawater, our young prince has some scars around his eyes that look like they came from thorns – and very recently too! So, don't be shy, either of you, there's plenty here to eat and we have the entire evening ahead of us. I want to hear it all."


	6. Chapter 6

The page's heart was pounding as he raced up the stone steps two at a time. He couldn't think, everything was so scary and exciting and – and all at once!

He'd lived just about all his life at the summer castle. His mother was one of Miss Nadine's seamstresses, and he grew up hearing the stories as he played with the fabric scraps on the floor while the women sewed.

Two more stairs, six, eight...it was just last year he'd found out it was a lot more fun to volunteer to gather up the scraps from the floor and then set them all on fire with his stableboy friends in one of the stone horse troughs when the grownups weren't looking.

Around the corner, up another flight. Every time the boys gathered to watch the scraps burn, one of them would bring up how much magic there used to be at the summer castle. The stableboys were a rougher lot than the page and they'd tried to scare him with stories of witches and ogres, and creatures that lived in the sea.

"The prince is one of 'em you know!" came next, and then the stories about how the king's second wife was a mermaid who turned into a demon and tried to kill the king, and how the soldiers had to slay her "and her blood was black like rotten seaweed."

All the page knew for sure was that the king had taken a second wife, that she'd come from over the sea, and that she'd died before any of them were born. So, for all he knew, the story was true. It sounded like it could be true.

After all, everybody knew about the haunted cave by the sea where the queen was entombed. Burned to ashes so she couldn't rise again, but some nights you could hear ghostly echoes wandering from that watery crypt.

That much was true, the page had heard them. Everybody had heard them, but nobody ever ventured to find out what the echoes were. Sometimes the stableboys would dare each other, but nobody ever went. It was too frightening.

And of course everybody knew about the prince. The page thought he knew more than most because he heard the seamstresses gossip about it sometimes, mostly when the royal family was in residence during the summer.

A lot of it was things he didn't care about

Well, you know, he didn't even want the marriage but you've got to protect the waters you trade on, don't you?

Shameful how he barely ever looked at her, and then as soon as she had the baby it was like he wasn't even married to her anymore, the old goat!

Yes, but she was just as happy with him not around, wouldn't you be? And she had little Jasen so she was quite content for it to be just the two of them. And he was such a happy child!

But every once in a while he would hear interesting things, and kept listening while he pretended to play with his toy soldiers on the floor so the women wouldn't notice him and shoo him out of the room.

Well, her father the sea king was a big help during the sea dragon war, I'll grant you that, and if wasn't for him we'd have been taken down for certain.

Yes, and who knows what would have happened if they'd gotten into the kingdom? They were stopped right here at the front door, and nobody at the palace even knows it happened! I'll bet even the crown prince wasn't told.

What's to tell? The sea king turned 'em back, didn't he, and we never did find out exactly why the sea dragons decided to attack. One night the moon turns black and on they come, three days later they're gone, the queen is dead and off the king goes back to the palace like this place was distasteful to him. The steward didn't even arrange for the queen's burial, and with the king gone that was his job!

Yes, but at least the sea folk took care of it. Lovely sendoff, I remember like it was yesterday...

At that point the page had stopped listening because he was bored; he wanted to hear about the battle with the sea serpents. And he wanted to know more about the sea king who was strong enough to turn them back.

But still, he felt superior to the stable boys because he knew things about the young prince they didn't. Like how he was born from inside a pearl like a chick hatching from an egg, and how his older brothers liked him when they were all younger, but when they started growing up would make fun of him and ignore him when they came to stay during the summer, because his mother came from the sea and he was the third son and not supposed to be born at all.

That part, the page would have known even if his mother wasn't a seamstress, because he heard the other grownups at the summer castle talk about it sometimes, especially the king who was old and shouted about it a lot. Some of the others were nice and even a little sad about it, like the court physician and Yates, the captain of the cavalry, who had walked by him just that afternoon while he was sitting in an alcove polishing one of the ceremonial swords.

"...I'm going to want to take a look at those marks around his eyes. Did he say how he got them?"

"No – well, not really, just said he was in a bit of a scrape. Didn't seem to want to talk about it."

"Hm."

"I know it wasn't Maxim, though, a few of my men were accompanying the crown prince a few weeks ago while he was looking for his bride and mentioned they saw him and Jasen together. They seemed to be getting on all right."

"Was Jasen wounded then?"

A pause. "One of my men thought so, but he wasn't close enough to be sure. He did notice Jasen was unescorted, wasn't happy about that but the king didn't release any horsemen to guard Jasen, only Maxim. 'Let him take care of himself', he said. Hmph."

"Damn it. Whatever happened, Jasen could have been killed. Perhaps the king doesn't care, but - "

At that point they'd gone beyond the page's hearing, and he lost the rest of the conversation. But the sword was polished brighter than it had ever been.

Now the page hopped up the last of the stairs and hurried through the great hall, past the late afternoon sun slanting the last of its light through the stained-glass windows and making bright puddles of color on the gleaming quartz floor. As he trotted across that gigantic room and made his way down the nearest alabaster hallway he wondered what it was like to have a father who didn't like you. His father was a tender of the horses and loved him, and until he knew better the page thought that's how all families were.

Then he saw how the king sometimes was to Prince Jasen, sharper and more cross than with Prince Maximilian or Prince Robriand. Prince Jasen didn't seem to mind, and the page had heard his mother say to another seamstress once it was because he'd been so contented and surrounded by love growing up at the summer castle, with just her and the sea people around, that it was like a big seawall around him that nothing bad could get through.

As he poked his head into this room and that, looking for the steward, the page thought about his mother's words. He knew people couldn't really build things like seawalls inside their own bodies, and if a sword or an arrow got close he was pretty sure they could get through. But his mother was very smart, and could see a lot of things that other people couldn't, so maybe she was right. The page knew there were people at the castle who weren't like the physician and Yates, who didn't like Prince Jasen and said bad things about him when he wasn't around, but if the prince knew about that he didn't seem to mind. So maybe it didn't matter that there were people didn't like him. Maybe -

"You there! What do you think you're doing?"

The page started, looked behind him. Standing at the end of the hall, in front of the stairs that led to his upstairs room, was the steward, clad in his evening robes and carrying his walking-stick. He glared at the page with a sullen frown.

"I was looking for you, sir," the page replied with an automatic bow. "Prince Jasen sent me up here with a message for you."

"Did he?" the steward muttered as he gathered up his robes and began walking up the hall. "Well, what is it? Follow me if it's long, I have work to do."

"Yes, sir," the page replied and as the steward passed him, quickly hopped into his shadow. "It's not a long message, sir. He wanted to make sure you had the bedchambers aired out, and wishes to know if there'll be any royal business he needs to attend to tonight. That's all."

"Hmph," the steward snorted as he turned into the royal bookkeeping room, a tall dark chamber that had shelves to its ceiling and every one was crammed full of thick books and piles of papers. A large, ornate wooden desk sat at the far end and the steward headed toward it. "What do I look like, a chambermaid? If that's what the prince wants go find one of those wenches and have them do it. That's nothing to do with me."

"Yes, sir," the page answered with another quick bow. He learned a long time ago that the steward liked being bowed to, so he did it a lot.

"Royal business," the steward muttered as he sat at the desk and began sifting through the piles of papers on it. "As if any of them care what's going on in the kingdom while they're roaming around debauching it! Come the winter that pale little wench will drop a bastard and there'll be another drain on the treasury to add to the – are you still here?"

The page had been standing there, thinking of nothing in particular, but at those sharp words he blinked and yelped, "Yes, sir! You want me to convey that message to the prince? About the pale little - "

"Oh, good God, no!" the steward exclaimed, then sighed hugely and sifted through the papers faster. "No, just...I suppose he'll be eating supper down there until late, that sea king won't shut up until he's shrivelled to nothing from being in the air..."

"That'll take a while," the page opined, looking up at the ceiling which he just noticed had a dead bat stuck in one of the rafters. "He's very big. Did he really defeat an army of sea dragons?"

"They're dining on the best food and drinking my wine and I'm up here doing all the work," the steward muttered as he hunched over the desk, as if the page hadn't said anything at all. "And what'll I get at the end of it? A small sack of gold and a piddling little house in the middle of those godforsaken woods."

"The woods have magic in them," the page offered, thinking maybe that was something the steward might want to hear if he was going to live there someday. "There's things out there, one of 'em almost got the prince. Made big thorns grow all around the eastern dovecote, they had to cut him and his lady out, I heard the guards talking. You have to be real careful if you go in there."

The steward shrugged and stared at the papers in front of him. "Big thorns, yes, yes. Yes, I suppose you..."

He stopped. Looked at the page. Stared at him, as if he was seeing something else; something that made him frown very hard.

"Yes," he repeated, slowly. "Those woods are a very dangerous place, aren't they? Thorn walls like that don't grow naturally. Somebody would have to make them."

The page nodded, thinking that the steward's eyes looked very cold all of a sudden.

The steward turned back to his papers, but he wasn't looking at them. He was looking at his desk, his eyes narrowed. A clock chimed somewhere.

Hating how quiet it was, the page cleared his throat and said, "Do you have any business for the prince, sir?"

"Hm? Oh! No," the steward shuffled the papers in his hands and laid them aside. "No, nothing at the moment, but come back in ten minutes, I need to compose a letter that I'll need you to deliver to Roger at the kingdom's gate. He'll know what to do with it, it needs to go straight to the king."

"Yes, sir," the page replied, feeling uneasy although he wasn't sure why. "Anything else?"

"No," the steward replied quickly; then, "Wait – yes. Go out to the stable and find the groomsman. I haven't worked my horse in a while, I think I should like to take a ride tonight. Tell him to saddle my horse."

"Yes, sir. Now?"

"No," the steward turned and looked toward the windows, where the last rays of the sun were gleaming dully against the diamond-shaped panes. "After sunset. When the air is cooler and the moon is up."

The page took a step back and bowed again. "Yes, sir. I'll tell him. Anything else?"

The steward frowned, glanced around, then shook his head and picked up the papers. "Only if you see the custodian, tell him to get in here and take care of that damned bat. It's been rotting up there for weeks."

The page bowed once more, one foot across the threshold. "Yes, sir. I'll go find the chambermaids first."

"You do that," the steward muttered, but his eyes were on the papers and the page knew he didn't see him anymore at all.

So he turned and hurried down the hall, his feet heading towards the chambermaids' quarters but his mind suddenly fluttering with all kinds of thoughts that he could barely control. Thoughts about sea dragons, and dead bats, and how he'd finally seen the great sea king who could control the oceans and was grandfather to a prince of the kingdom.

And other thought, about how all the sea kings in the world, even the mightiest ones, couldn't keep the steward from not liking the prince; and no matter how much power the oceans had they couldn't stop a wall of thorns from growing where they didn't belong, or the moon from rising, or a letter from getting to the king.

_____________

Rapunzel took another drink of wine, tried to think of a time when she had so enjoyed having a meal, and decided that she couldn't.

Dinner itself was over, and had been for a long time. Hours had passed as the sea-king had heard the entire story of how Rapunzel and her prince had met, and their adventures since (leaving her mother's presence and involvement somewhat murky, by mutual unspoken agreement.) Everything had been eaten, and when the first course was consumed another appeared, and another, and then dessert, and now she, King Daenas, and Jasen were idly picking at a large platter of cheese and berries and talking.

Jasen. Rapunzel looked at her prince, who was now lounging very comfortably against a stacked-up pile of floor pillows and listening to his grandfather tell another story of the goings-on underseas while his grandson had been away. The lanterns were burning low and now the Emerald Chamber glistened with a warm golden light, perfect for cozy storytelling.

Jasen, Rapunzel thought as she leaned back against her own very comfortable pile of pillows. How odd that before today she had almost never called the prince by his given name, only my darling and my prince, or no name at all. She hadn't even thought about his name, having lived her entire life only knowing one other person, and that person didn't have a name either, except mother.

Small wonder then, perhaps, that she had not even considered that the upstart boy who appeared at her tower window one evening would have a name. Had she ever even asked it? She couldn't remember. He had known her name already, somehow, and she never questioned that. The moment their eyes met, her soul opened and a name seemed unneeded, foreign, something the world had attached to this brilliant light that would never describe it, never.

So, she never spoke his name, never needed to. Darling was enough. That word made his eyes shine like a mere name never could.

Or so Rapunzel had been contented to think, until tonight. Tonight, after hearing King Daenas say the name Jasen dozens of times, always with the same loving affection, and seeing her prince smile at the word and laugh, and share tales, and speak in tones brimming with happiness, Rapunzel began to see the name shift into her prince's being, become part of him. It was gradual, but it was happening.

Her beloved was a startling dream that appeared out of the sun fully grown one summer's evening. But Jasen was an energetic child running along the beach playing catch with his young sea-cousins.

Her prince was daringly climbing a tower using nothing but hair as a rope. Jasen was sneaking onto the fisherman's boats when nobody was looking and cutting their nets, releasing the large fish caught only as prizes, back into the sea.

Her darling had roamed the darkest paths in the woods, blind and hurting, with only one thought in his mind: to find her. Jasen had once climbed onto the roof of the summer castle to rescue a baby sea-dragon with an injured wing.

"And frightened the ocean's depths out of your mother!" King Daenas related with a shake of his shaggy head. He was relaxing too, half-reclining on a bubbling bed of foam as he sampled another wedge of cheese. "I remember as if it was yesterday. That sea-dragon's mother was also beside herself, she had no idea where her baby had got to!"

"I know!" Jasen laughed, popping another berry into his mouth and shaking her head. "I was, what, maybe ten at the time? Another year and I wouldn't have been able to fit through that attic window. But that mother sea-dragon, she sure was grateful! Rapunzel, do you know how dragons say thank you?"

Rapunzel set her wine glass down and shook her head.

"They do this," Jasen sat up quickly and lightly bumped Rapunzel's forehead with his own. "See? They know better than to kiss us because we'd burn right up and, well, no hands to shake! That mama dragon bumped me so often I think I got a bruise!"

"But always very lightly," Daenas remarked, "She knew better than to knock over the king's son!"

Rapunzel rubbed her forehead with one hand and shook her head in wonder. "All these stories are so wonderful! I hope I get to see a sea-dragon one day."

"Oh, you can count on it!" King Daenas boomed, his eyes glowing. "Oh, my dear, you've no idea! Once the undersea kingdom hears about you, you won't be able to keep my subjects away. Jasen's cousins are already frantic to visit with him, and his aunts have been wondering aloud for years about whether he'd 'swum upstream yet', as the saying goes. You'll have ten dragons waiting for you on the windowsill of your chamber when you wake up in the morning!"

Rapunzel smiled at this thought, and as she looked at Jasen felt herself blush.

"Ahem!" Daenas rumbled. "Mind I did say your chamber. Don't think I didn't notice that look! This isn't the country, young lady, there'll be no swimming in the same brook before you're properly entangled. His father's rules, not mine."

Rapunzel's jaw dropped, and she looked from Jasen to his grandfather. "Oh – you mean - "

"Yeah, sorry," Jasen sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position on the pillows. "Thanks to Maxim and Rob, I'm pretty sure the chambermaids are making up a bedchamber for you and it's a long ways away from mine. It's just until we're married, though."

"Oh, but - " Rapunzel quickly reached out and took Jasen's hand in hers, held it tightly. She paused, a thousand words fighting to reach her lips but every one seemed wrong to say in front of King Daenas.

They'd never spent a night apart since they met; she wasn't sure she ever wanted to spend a night falling asleep without his warm comfort by her side. Words hotter than any dragon's fire, that the king would certainly be surprised to hear! And did her prince even know that a few times she had eased him out of a nightmare, when she awoke to feel him shaking beside her and muttering her name in panicked breaths, crying that he was blind and it was dark and he couldn't find her?

No. Rapunzel bit her lip and looked in her lover's eyes, gazing back at her shimmering and happy and so blue, the black marks of the thorns like animals' claw marks against the fair skin of his temples. No, of course he didn't remember, because for him the nightmare was over except for deep down in places that don't ever forget and he wasn't thinking about that now. He was thinking of running over the rooftops of the summer castle, of being happy.

But she remembered; and a very insistent part of her was clamoring that he should not sleep alone.

Rapunzel took a breath and tried to think of a way to articulate this, but before she could say anything Jasen grinned and placed his other hand on top of hers and pressed it. His hands were warm and reassuring.

"Don't worry, darling, it's only for a few nights," he promised, shifting so he was leaning toward her, the lanternlight glowing off his golden hair. "We'll be married by the end of the week, I promise! Durwin's a minister, he can marry us officially and then we can share a chamber and take all the time we want to plan a royal wedding."

Rapunzel's eyes widened. "Not like your brother's, please. There were so many people!"

"We'll do it any way you want," Jasen promised, leaning forward and pressing Rapunzel's hands tighter. "Big, small, just the king and the court and a small dance afterward if that'll make you happy. I won't put you anywhere you don't feel safe, promise!"

Rapunzel relaxed a little, and tried to shrug her fear away. "I'm sorry, it's just – I'm not used to - "

"No need for such words at all, my lady!" Daenas insisted, the water rumbling as he floated closer to where she was sitting and laid a massive hand on her shoulder. "I quite agree with you actually, I've seen more than a few royal weddings in my time and they're mostly hideous, noisy affairs. If it will make you more comfortable I'll arrange a small reception for my people on another date, and only myself and Jasen's aunts will attend the wedding."

"That would be lovely," Rapunzel smiled and looked at Jasen. "How many aunts do you have?"

Jasen turned to the king with a puzzled frown. "Sixty-seven?"

"Eighty-nine," Daenas corrected officiously. "My consort Miniera hatched another dozen last spring."

Rapunzel blanched and her mouth dropped open in alarm – until she noticed that both Jasen and his grandfather were now grinning ear-to-ear.

"OH! You!" she huffed, and punched Jasen in the arm. But she was laughing.

"Ow!" Jasen chuckled and leaned away, raising one hand in surrender. "Okay, my math is off. I think maybe ten!"

"More like eight," Daenas corrected, this time with an indulgent smile. "Two of your aunts are wintering in the southern currents this year."

"Well, that's better," Rapunzel punched Jasen again, "But it still doesn't get you..." she paused and looked at Daenas uncertainly, "Can I say 'off the hook'? Or is that...you know..."

Daenas boomed with laughter. "No, that's a splendid pun! Go ahead and use it!"

"It doesn't get you off the hook!" Rapunzel exclaimed, and throwing herself at her beloved wrestled him onto the pillows and kissed him.

She could easily have melted into those pillows and stayed there forever, the room was so beautiful and warm and the wine was flowing freely through her veins. The prince's arms slipped around her waist too, just for a moment, but just as she was relaxing into that wonderful kiss she felt his arms slip away again and he began struggling to sit up from under her.

"Oof, I've got a little too much wine inside of me!" Jasen winced and rubbed his stomach as Rapunzel leaned back and he sat up. "Dearest, would you excuse me for a moment? Grandfather, tell her one of your wonderful stories and I'll be right back!"

Rapunzel smiled and thought, of course – they'd drunk that entire bottle of wine and her beloved couldn't just relieve himself in some nearby bushes as he had when they were on the road. She nodded and pushed her hair back, then smiled impishly.

"You'd better hurry back," she warned, "Or I'll ask about your most embarrassing moment from when you were a child!"

The prince laughed over his shoulder and hurried up the stairs, and Rapunzel turned toward King Daenas and said, "I am rather hoping you'll tell me anyway, even if he does hurry back!"

It was a joke, and she was smiling when she said it, but to her surprise King Daenas wasn't even looking at her. He was watching Prince Jasen, very carefully, hardly moving from the water as the prince's footsteps faded into nothing as he climbed the steps and disappeared. Puzzled, Rapunzel said nothing else and waited. This was peculiar.

Finally, after a few more moments, Daenas let out a sigh and drifting down a little lower in the water leaned forward and fixed Rapunzel with the most serious look she'd seen.

"This is good," he began, in a quiet and very serious tone. "I was hoping Jasen would leave us alone for a few minutes. My dear, I should very much like to have a private conversation with you."

Rapunzel's eyes widened. This wasn't at all what she was expecting. She edged toward the rim of the table and leaned her arms onto it. "Of course, Your Highness. What is it?"

"Oh, I'm not 'Your Highness', my dear, not to you," Daenas replied with a shake of his head. "Not now that I've met you and I've heard your story and I've observed how thoroughly together you and my grandson are. I've seen lots of princesses in my time, lots of ladies and maidens and the like fluttering around his flame, but none of them are made of what lives in you, Rapunzel. You are not fluff and frippery and the silly transparent things of this world. You are stone and metal and strong things, aren't you? I can see it."

"I..." Rapunzel thought for a moment, remembered fleeing her mother and riding with her prince, the journey, the fear, a swamp full of snakes and she didn't think about the danger, not once,and she was terrified of snakes – and her mother knew it. "I never thought about it, I guess – I guess I just don't want to be away from him. He came after me, even when he couldn't see, he didn't give up. He wasn't afraid. I've never met anyone like him before."

"My grandson is extraordinary, there's no doubt about that," Daenas said proudly, sitting up a little and causing the water to quietly splash around him. "But no less extraordinary than you, my dear. When he couldn't see you wept into his eyes and gave him back his sight. That's miraculous."

Rapunzel blushed and combed her hair away with one hand, looking down. "I've never had magic. When I was a little girl I had pet birds and cried when they died, and it never changed anything. I was so happy when Jasen could see again, but – I don't know how I did it."

"Oh, but I do," Daenas smiled gently, "Rapunzel, hold out your hands."

Curious, Rapunzel held up her hands, cupping them slightly, Daenas scooped up a handful of water from the pool and slowly poured into her palm.

"Jasen comes from the sea, my dear," the sea-king intoned. "He is made of the sea, his very spirit responds to its call. And so your tears are also made, of the very same salt-water, and when you wept over his wounds his soul answered the love in them. A thousand witches with all their magic could not have done what you did, Rapunzel. You awakened the restoring power of the sea in him. And for that I shall be forever in your debt."

Rapunzel stared at the water in her hands, glistening in the lanternlight and dripping like golden stars from her fingers. She realized she was trembling. She lifted wide eyes to Daenas and could not think of a thing to say.

Daenas smiled slightly and shrugged, "My apologies, my children all say I have a flair for the over-dramatic. But believe me, my child, when I say that what you hold within yourself is very powerful, much more powerful than you guess. You love my grandson, and I'm very glad you do, because as you see him now, he has always been – the most honest, open and genuine of creatures."

"Oh, yes," Rapunzel agreed breathlessly as she lowered her hands and poured the water back into the pool. "Yes, it's what I love most about him. He's so unafraid of the world."

"Yes, his mother was the same way," Daenas said, with a hint of sadness Rapunzel thought; now he was gazing up the stairs where the prince had gone. "She married the king as part of an alliance, you'll hear the story I'm sure. There was not an overabundance of love there but she wanted a son. Jasen was everything to her, and thanks to her he grew up surrounded by love, security and happiness."

Rapunzel frowned at the melancholy in the king's voice. She dipped her fingers in the water, waited.

"Jasen is a lovely boy, all I could ever ask in a son of the land, but you see..." he paused, took a deep breath. "You see, my dear, where I live under the ocean our children learn at an early age you must always watch for sharks. Always in the deep something is lurking to destroy you, and you need to be wary. You need armor, and Jasen has no armor. And he is so willing to go headlong into danger for anyone he loves that I am very afraid for him."

Rapunzel sat up, her eyes wide. He's right, she thought, remembering her love rushing toward a swamp full of poisonous snakes, blind, never thinking twice. Her prince, taking angry strides toward her mother who was dangerous even without her magic. Her beloved, riding without caution through a land ravaged by a giant, looking for her – looking for her -

And then there was the steward. Rapunzel remembered his eyes and thought that she did not like the way the steward looked at her prince. Not at all.

"I can see by your face that you know what I'm talking about," Daenas said somberly, and straightening himself in the water turned away from Rapunzel. "I had brought something for Jasen as sort of a welcome-home gift, but as you and I have come to know each other I think perhaps it would be more appropriate for you to have it. If you will accept it, that is."

Rapunzel realized she wasn't breathing and took a deep breath, blinked and saw that the sea-king was lifting a parcel wrapped in slick dark-green paper. Then he began unwrapping it and she realized the paper was in fact some sort of broad, wet leaf, layers of it. The package became smaller and smaller. Tilting her head she asked, "What is it?"

"It's very rare," Daenas replied, and finally the last of the wrapping fell away and he lifted up a T-shaped object made of twined gold and silver, about five inches long and encrusted with various uncut gems. It was flat at the top, and an empty slot marked the center.

As Rapunzel watched, Daenas gripped the long end of the T in his right hand and pulled his left hand in the empty air above the opening. Immediately a shower of water droplets cycloned through the air and swirled above the slot, forming a sudden and very sharp-looking crystal blade.

"It's called an aquulancet," Daenas explained as he tilted the blade in the light. "In your language, a water-dagger. Very lethal where I live because you know, you cannot see the blade. Would you like to try it?"

Fascinated, Rapunzel nodded. A hundred thoughts were churning through her brain as Daenas shook the blade back into water droplets and handed her the empty hilt. She had never lifted a weapon in her life. Now Daenas was asking her to protect his son. Rapunzel, a girl who grew up in a tower and could not see herself being menacing to anyone. True, she had gotten quite angry at her mother. True, her first thought when she had seen Jasen blind was not despair or sorrow but how could she do this to you? Still…

Still, she was not a fighter. She took the hilt from Daenas fully expecting it to be heavy, but it wasn't. It was as light as if it was made of wood. She held it in her right hand, as she had seen him do, and tentatively waved her hand over the empty space above the slot.

Nothing happened.

"It isn't automatic," Daenas admitted. "Some of your own will is involved. It's not meant for petty disagreements but for defending against danger. Imagine someone you love in peril, call upon your will to protect them and the sea will answer your call."

Rapunzel pursed her lips. Probably she couldn't do this. She took a deep breath, thought of Jasen. Thought of those nightmares he had and how, through them, she'd learned of exactly what her mother had done. Pictured her beloved riding along the meadow, harming nothing and smiling his happiness, when out of nowhere a wall of thorns erupted in front of his horse and he was thrown, the sharp thorns piercing his clothes and his face and his eyes and they hurt and he screamed -

Sshhhhkkk!

Rapunzel blinked and looked down. Her left hand was hovering in midair. In her right she gripped a gold and silver hilt and above it, an ice-hard dagger with three serrated blades.

Rapunzel gasped.

"I love my grandson dearly," Daenas said, very quietly and sadly over her shoulder. "But he will never use a weapon like that. He will never think to. By the time he senses danger it will be too late, and there's a part of me that hopes he will never have the need to harden himself against the world like that."

"He won't," Rapunzel vowed, and stared at the blades in surprised realization. She did not know she had this anger inside of her, but now that she knew it did not frighten her. It was like her mother's spells, a weapon. A weapon she could use to protect the one she loved. "He won't, I – I'd rather die than see him lose that light in his eyes."

"Then you accept the gift? I know it's a burden."

"No, it's not," Rapunzel shook her head, and wondered why this felt so natural. She wasn't a violent person, she never wanted to hurt anyone. Did she? "It's not, it's – it's the price of loving him. Yes, I accept it."

The king sighed, and it was only then that Rapunzel realized he had been holding his breath. She felt a large, heavy hand on her shoulder. "Bless you, my dear."

"I'm back!"

Rapunzel gasped at the sound of her prince's and hurriedly shook the dagger, causing the blade to dissolve into a thousand drops of water that all sped into the pool – she was sure, at the sea-king's command. She quickly pushed the empty hilt into the side-pocket of her dress and turned to the entranceway just as Jasen came bounding back into the room, his face flushed and all smiles.

"That's better, now I'm ready for another bottle of wine!" the prince declared, falling to his knees on the pillows and putting his arms around Rapunzel's shoulders. "I remember where we were, do you? Want me to remind you?"

Rapunzel giggled and ducked her head to hide the last of the serious expression she'd been wearing before Jasen could see it in her eyes and worry. She blinked and it was gone; when she raised her eyes to meet his again, they shone with nothing but happiness.

King Daenas sloshed back in the pool and shook his head with a shaggy smile. "Oh, my boy, you make me feel like a positive fifth wheel, you really do. But then, I can hardly blame you. I remember young love and it really is very intoxicating!"

"Yes, it is," Jasen agreed, nuzzling closer to Rapunzel and holding her close. He looked at Daenas with wide blue eyes. "How late can you stay, grandfather? You've only just met Rapunzel and we haven't had a visit for years. How long can you be away from the kingdom?"

"Well, not very much longer, I'm afraid," Daenas sighed, "It was quite a journey to get here once I received your call and there's the matter of rebuilding some of the coral reefs that were dislodged when the giant attacked."

"The giant destroyed some of your kingdom too?" Rapunzel asked in dismay. "Oh, I'm so sorry - "

"It's quite all right," the king replied, raising a calming hand. "merely some cracks and tumbled shelves, nothing that can't be repaired, but that required coordination and leadership and so I must go attend to it. But don't think I'll forget you're getting married at the end of the week! I'll send one of my granddaughters to help with the arrangements of our attendance. Myrna is very good with such things, you'll see her in a day or two I think."

"Myrna," Rapunzel repeated.

"Yes," Daenas shifted himself in the water, rising taller by degrees. "Lovely child, bright purple hair just like her mother. She's very charming, you should get on splendidly."

Rapunzel smiled and tried to picture arranging a wedding with a mermaid. She couldn't, and turned to Jasen, but he was beaming at his grandfather as if he was completely used to such things. Which of course he was. So she let it go.

"Jasen, my boy," Daenas opened his arms, and the prince stood and leaned into them, letting the sea-king wrap him in a gigantic hug. "I'm so glad you're safely home! Just promise me you'll listen to Captain Yates and get back into your training, the world doesn't run short of dangers and he might need you soon."

"Oh, grandfather, it's so good to see you!" Jasen replied, muffled by the mountain of King Daenas' red hair. "And don't worry, if the kingdom needs me I'll make sure I'm ready to answer. But don't forget that first you have to dance with Rapunzel at the wedding!"

"Dance!" Rapunzel exclaimed, and looked at the roiling water around the king's waist. "I thought it would be a fish tail – I mean – you have legs?"

"When I want to, of course I do!" Daenas lifted one knee out of the water to prove it – only a little, and only long enough for Rapunzel to see one greenish-tan appendage that looked like a knee before he drew it back into the water. "Don't think you'll get out of a dance that easily, my dear. I'm very much looking forward to it!"

Rapunzel laughed and met the sea-king's eyes, only intending to give him a parting embrace and the usual polite words of farewell, as she had when excusing herself from royal company at the palace.

But she wasn't prepared for what she saw in Daenas' bright green eyes. Not the formal distance of a regal parting or the bland "so nice that you could come" indifference she had seen so often at the king's palace. Instead there was understanding, affection, and something else that Rapunzel couldn't place at first, but it was urgent and brilliant and her soul responded to it immediately. Without even being aware of it she moved and threw her arms around him, a little desperately perhaps, and felt his strong arms envelope her and surround her with warmth.

We both love him, she realized. That's what it is. We're just the same that way.

"I'll take care of him," she whispered, softly so only Daenas would hear it.

"I know you will," he murmured, just as quietly. Then they parted and Rapunzel stood.

"Good-bye, grandfather!" Jasen called, slipping his right arm around Rapunzel's waist and lifting his left arm in farewell. "I'll send word when the wedding celebration is set."

"No need, my boy, Myrna and Rapunzel will have that all sorted out and I'll hear it from her," Daenas replied, and shifted himself back into the water, raised one brawny arm and waved. "Farewell to you both, fair winds and skies until we meet again! Inform Piersley the food was excellent."

"I will," the prince answered, and lowering his arm clasped it around Rapunzel's waist and pulled her closer.

"Good-bye!" Rapunzel waved to the sea-king, and felt rather than saw the prince lean his head against hers. "Thank you so much for everything!"  
"It's only the beginning, my dear!" Daenas boomed as he sank into the water. "Only the sunrise of all good things to come!"

With that he raised both hands and a huge mist of water burst into the air, creating a stunning bright rainbow from the lanterns in the room. King Daenas plunged beneath the churning waves, and an instant later the mist obediently darted downward also, and the room went still.

Rapunzel blinked at the pool where the king had been only moments before. The water was utterly calm, and there wasn't a drop of it anywhere on the floor, the dishes, or her clothes. She laughed in wonderment and smoothed her hair back from her face.  
"He's amazing," she whispered.

"He's always been that way," Jasen replied fondly, not moving his head from where it leaned against Rapunzel's or his arms from where they clasped around her waist. "Ever since my first memory. I forgot how much I missed him."

"Well, we'll have to have him visit every day after we're married," Rapunzel sighed, and turned to face the prince and put her arms around his neck.

Jasen laughed. "You don't know how far away his kingdom is, and he's very busy. Maybe once or twice a month. That'll be enough."

"I can't wait," Rapunzel murmured, and because her prince was so close she kissed him once, then again.

"Hm," Jasen murmured in reply. "Well, the staff upstairs doesn't know when we finished eating and it's a shame to let these pillows go to waste..."

Rapunzel giggled and didn't resist when the Prince gently guided her downward, until they were reclining quite comfortably on the mounds of pillows. She lay against his shoulder and looked into his beautiful blue eyes. "You mean the steward won't come down here to check on us?"

"Him? No!" Jasen shook his head. "He runs the castle, not me. If there was anything that needed my attention he would have told me by now. Besides, he went riding. The page told me when I went upstairs."

"Riding? Isn't it dark outside?"

"There's a moon, and he's kind of odd that way. You know, this talk is getting very dull and not about us. I mean, we're alone in this beautiful room that has such wonderful memories for me, we're full of wonderful food and wine..."

Rapunzel chuckled softly and nestled into the prince's arms. "You sound like your brother. You don't have to seduce me. I'm there already."

"Ah, you haven't met any of the handsome mermen from the sea-kingdom yet. They can grow legs, you know."

"Not as fine as yours," Rapunzel said in a mock-soothing tone, and kissed him again.

It was a warm kiss, made of wine and cinnamon and sugar, and when they parted Rapunzel wondered if she was a little drunk. She thought maybe she was. Or perhaps she was simply drowsy with happiness. She curled further into Jasen's embrace. "Can we stay here all night?"

"Well, for another hour or two we'll be safe, until Nadine comes down to fetch you to your bedchamber," Jasen sighed and rubbed one hand slowly up and down Rapunzel's arm. "So, did my grandfather give you a present?"

Rapunzel gasped, then bit her lip to quiet her shock. Curse it, she was no good at deceit! "What?"

"He gave you something. I felt it in your pocket. Is it jewelry?"

"Yes," Rapunzel replied, a little too loud probably. But she quickly collected herself, she had lied sometimes to her mother and this was no different. No, this was very different; she lied to her mother to protect only herself, not her beloved. Not him. "Yes, it's – a bracelet of gold and silver. It's – beautiful but heavy. I don't think I'll be able to wear it much."

"Hm," Jasen paused, then kissed Rapunzel's cheek. "Just wear it at the wedding. He'll understand. He'll probably be just as happy if you never bring it out again."

"Yes," Rapunzel whispered, and hoped her prince didn't feel the shudder that ran though her just then. "I'm sure that would make him very happy."

Fortunately, Jasen was too intoxicated on the wine and her nearness to sense the worry in her words. He murmured something – she couldn't quite hear what – and pulled her closer, dissolving all of her fears with another kiss. Then another, and another, until the room spun and blurred into a kaleidoscope of gold and green and liquid light and Rapunzel fell into it, caring nothing about the castle or the steward or anything at all above their heads or anywhere in the world.

Nothing existed except the beautiful boy in her arms and the precious time ahead of them, and when Rapunzel finally realized what the prince had whispered in her ear -

"So, are you wearing anything under that pretty green dress?"

She laughed, the pure unfettered laugh of a soul that was truly free and lived only for the amazing joy of tasting that freedom, from that moment until the day she died. And kissed him.


	7. Chapter 7

Part Seven

Ormand carefully guided his horse up the grassy hill, then paused and looked up at the moon.

It was a full moon, bright and large in the clear starry sky. Almost directly overhead; it was maybe a little before midnight.

Ormand turned and looked over his shoulder. The hill was not a high one, but the ground gradually sloped away behind him, revealing in the bright moonlight the tall grass he had ridden through, and beyond that the thick woods that ringed the meadow he was in. Far beyond that, shimmering in the distance, the seaside kingdom and the ocean. He knew if he squinted, he could just make out the bright golden lights of the summer castle.

He did not squint. He frowned, turned, and rode on.

He had not ridden so far inland in a long time, certainly not since the previous winter. The landscape looked different now, green and blue, the trees with their waxy leaves glimmering in the moonlight where the last time he had seen them they had been gray and stiff and dead. Somehow seeing them this way was more unsettling. Why, he was not sure, only he knew he did not like them. Before he could ponder this mystery further, however, he reached the edge of the meadow and spotted the dovecote.

The dovecote, he remembered, although not in its current state. It had not been used in years, not since the palace had decided to stop spending money on falcons and doves for sporting and had the place closed up. Once the dovecote and the land surrounding it had been meticulously groomed and kept up; now it was wild and abandoned, the grasses long and unkempt and the dovecote decayed and crumbling.

It's certainly not the grand place it was, Ormand thought bitterly as he slowly urged his horse forward. How well he remembered these meadows in their glory days! The royal treasury was full, the queen had just given birth to a second son, everyone in the palace was in a joyous mood and every summer morning it seemed the word came: we will go falconing today!

Ormand was head steward at the king's palace then; the summer palace had not yet been built. So he had the pleasant duty of attending to the arrangements of all the local nobles, riding out to announce the hunt and being rewarded for it with offers of sweet rolls and apple cider and, occasionally, a coin or two. He never turned down anything.

The king could ride then, and he very much enjoyed doing it and showing off. He was in the prime of his manhood, out of the callowness of youth but not yet near the fragility of sickness and old age. He would dress in his best hunting clothes, rich dark leathers and sturdy light wools dyed a green so deep it looked black. He was always in a jovial mood, and with his waving gray-brown hair sweeping back from his handsome face he would happily mount his festively appointed horse and call out for all of the kingdom to join him.

Almost everyone did. Queen Cecelia, the king's first wife, did not like riding and had at that point been rolling her eyes for years at the King's unabashed vanity. The Queen was not a fool and knew very well why her husband always arranged for a carriage for any nobleman's wife or daughter who wished to attend but did not wish to ride. Yes, she knew; it was no secret, and no scandal either, for the king was handsome and charming and powerful, and more than one nobleman actually encouraged such dalliances. And Ormand – who frequently had to tidy up the carriage afterwards – could not recall any of the wives protesting, either.

Yes, Ormand sighed to himself as he nudged his horse closer to the now-derelict structure glowering in the moonlight before him, those were certainly wonderful days. There was more than enough gold to pay off the results of the king's affairs, that was never a concern. Only the summer's day and the ride and the hunt, and once all the noblemen were standing in the meadow on their horses, their falcons setting on their arms hooded and ready, the king would shout in his hearty loud voice, and the bird keeper in the dovecote would ring a loud bell to scare the doves out through the holes; and the falconing would begin.

It was a messy, bloody, brutal sport. Of course the doves never had a chance, not against two dozen or so hungry falcons. The birds sprang from their masters' arms the moment their hoods were lifted off, and before long a large pile of dead and dying doves would be laying in the meadow, their torn bodies half-hidden by the morning mist rising from the grass.

There would be drinking, and games, and songs, and about midmorning the king would disappear, and no one would ask questions. The entire day would go that way, and only when the sun began to set would the pages begin gathering the dead birds into bags – they were no good for eating so they would be burned in a bonfire that evening – and the hunting party would make its way back to the palace. Everyone was happy, young, and content.

But it didn't last, Ormand thought gloomily as he halted his horse and gazed gloomily across the deserted meadow.

No, it didn't. The last falconing was a quarter-century ago. That autumn, the queen died. The king's health had begun deteriorating even then, and her death left him short-tempered and angry, for he had two young princes to raise and all the ladies of the household came from his wife's kingdom. They left the day after the queen's funeral, and it was no secret that they did not like the way he had treated his wife. The king cursed their names loudly and often, and began drinking.

It was terrifying, the uncertainty of those days. Ormand knew, as they all did, that a drunk king meant a kingdom ripe for invasion. He attempted to talk to the king but it was useless, for a crippling disease had taken hold of the king's body and mind and he only roamed the palace smashing things and raving about what loathsome bitches all women were. The crown prince, Maximilian, was six; Prince Robriand was barely two. And the kingdom was in desperate peril.

"I should have moved to take the throne then," Ormand muttered, to no one in particular. He shook his head at his own stupidity. The situation was perfect. If he had only planned ahead, gathered an army, secured some support from a few witches perhaps. The king was powerful but nobody liked him. The queen was dead, and the princes were mere babes, easy enough to dispatch. It would have been effortless.

But Ormand cursed his own shortsightedness, he had not been prepared. By the time he realized what could be achieved and began preparing word had already gone out that the king was seeking a marriage of alliance. And it was too late.

The word had not gone out from the king; he was in a stupor at that time and couldn't even say one word, let alone construct a sentence. No, it was Seyfolt, the palace physician, who unknown to Ormand had drafted several letters, put the palace seal on them and placed them in the hands of couriers with instructions to take them to every kingdom that could be an ally. Even a potential ally. There was not a moment to lose.

Oh, Ormand had been furious! He still remembered that night, when he found out, bellowing and cursing Seyfolt out as Seyfolt's young son and apprentice, Durwin, had looked on.

Furious! How dare Seyfolt go behind his back. He was the palace steward and by God -

"Steward of what?" Seyfolt had hollered, right back. He was not a small man and had a big set of lungs. "We haven't a king, in case you didn't notice. You don't know the state he's in, I do. We have to act now!"

"Without consulting me!" Ormand's face hurt with anger, he remembered that too. "What are you afraid of, that you did this without my knowledge? Answer me!"

"Look, we're both men here," Seyfolt replied, his voice quieter but no less firm; his words were made of solid rock. "Stewards are not unambitious, and I go into the woods to get my herbs and flowers. I know what you've been up to, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't work."

Ormand cursed that memory, cursed his younger self and his stupidity. He hadn't been careful. He had gone into the woods looking for warlocks and witches to help him, had asked around a few taverns and he hadn't been careful. Seyfolt had found out.

There was nothing to do at that moment but try to save his hide; denying it would only make him look foolish. So he had squared his shoulders and looked Seyfolt right in the eye.

"My ambitions are only for the kingdom," he had claimed, although of course that wasn't true. "There are powers there who could be great allies if we join them. Unlike you I am not afraid to seek them out."

But Seyfolt only shook his head. "I've known many good witches and warlocks in my time, but none of them live in the darkness of the woods. There is only evil there and you don't know what you're dealing with."

"There we disagree," Ormand had said, and tapped his silver-headed cane on the ground. "In any case, you cannot stop me. You're only the court physician, I can put you in the dungeon in a moment and have you completely gone in two."

At that moment young Durwin, who was twelve at the time, stepped out of the shadows and said, "Then I'll stop you!"

Ormand laughed at that remark. Durwin was small and thin, and his voice was high like a girl's. He shook his head and with a smile said, "Child, you hardly cut a threatening figure. Be certain to let me know when you strike me for I'm sure I won't feel it."

"Leave Durwin out of this," Seyfolt said, stepping between his son and Ormand and fixing him with an earnest look. "You're right, Ormand, I have no power to stop what you're doing but those letters have gone out and I beg you to save this kingdom by some means other than sorcery. I know what I'm talking about when I say you have no idea what's in those woods. There are creatures there who will feed on your arrogance and spit out your bones before you've even died."

"Really," Ormand said drily.

"Yes."

Ormand had let it drop then, because it was late and he was becoming increasingly aware that Durwin was watching him very closely. The child was nothing, but he did have large ears and who knew what remarks he would pass along to the king should that monarch ever regain consciousness?

So – kicking himself for his ill-preparedness – Ormand had retreated, attended to the duties of the kingdom and waited for word regarding which empty-headed ninny from which worthless surrounding kingdom would be putting herself forward as a suitable wife for the widowed king.

A week passed; two. Then three, and no word came. The palace council held meetings, worried, argued and discussed the threat of invasion. The leader of the palace forces at that time was a rather heavyset fellow named Bardo, and he tried to assure the council that his men were prepared and had been patrolling the kingdom to keep out trouble. But Bardo was not very good at leading, and everyone in the council had seen the palace horses grazing beside every brothel in the kingdom. No one was reassured.

A rotating bevy of noblewomen appeared to look after the two young princes, and Ormand was relieved that at least he didn't have to worry about such a ... female thing. The two boys cried for their mother and were swiftly and constantly coddled by their caretakers, which horribly spoiled them both.

In the moments when Ormand deigned to pay attention he noticed that one young nobleman's wife, Terese, delighted in taking care of the young princes and showered them with gifts and affection. She praised Prince Maxim's looks and skills constantly, and didn't seem to mind when little Robriand preferred racing up and down the servants' stairs naked to taking his bath. Ormand suspected she had been one of the king's mistresses once; and he certainly did not dissuade her from looking after the children. But she was a minor nobleman's wife, and of no use to the kingdom, so a marriage was out of the question.

Another month passed, and Ormand began contemplating making a move to take the throne. He had heard some of the guards and noblemen talking and pondered that perhaps, with the right promises, he could get enough support to march on the castle and kill the king. Everyone was anxious, the king was constantly drunk and calling for whores, the young princes were unguarded, and the peasants were growing desperate for leadership. And Ormand very much wanted to rule. More than that, he wanted to be noticed.

He began talking to a few of the more disgruntled guards and horsemen, had in fact gotten words of support from some of the tavern keepers, and was walking the gardens one morning pondering what to do next when a messenger arrived from a kingdom he'd never heard of, with a letter for the council. An offer of marriage.

The council met in their chamber at once, and the meeting was a raucous affair. The messenger, who introduced himself as Kendil, was an odd-looking young man with silver-blond hair down to his waist, skin that shimmered green-blue in the daylight and eyes that did not seem to have pupils. He had legs, but claimed to be from under the water somewhere. From under the sea.

"Under the sea? Where?" Ormand demanded. He knew of a sea to the east, but that shoreline was rocky and cold, no one lived there except some miserable soldiers forced to keep the solitary outpost built on the shoreline. The king – who detested both water and foreigners – refused to go near it.

"About forty leagues from your shores," the young man said in a weirdly musical voice that sounded like water bubbling up from a spring. "The name of our kingdom is difficult to translate into your tongue, but you may call it Symdalis."

"We don't have to call it anything," one of the councilmen snapped, rather too rudely but everyone in the kingdom was on edge in those days. "Why would our king want to marry a girl who can't even live above water?"

"All of our people can live above water, as you see," Kendil indicated the legs he obviously had, even though they were covered from the knees up by the silver tunic he wore. "It is a simple matter of adjusting our bodies to breathe your air. As for why your king would want to marry our princess, it's all contained in King Daenas' reply."

And so it was. Ormand and the council read the reply, a detailed account of several kingdoms across the sea that Ormand didn't even know existed, and the benefits of trading with those kingdoms facilitated by the sea-king's protection.

"That sounds like a threat," Ormand stated flatly, glaring at Kendil. "If we don't take your princess as the king's wife he'll sink our ships. Is that it?"

"No!" Kendil's expression suggested he was shocked at such an idea; but Ormand was still suspicious, thinking perhaps the Symdalin was just a very good liar. "Not at all. Our understanding of your world is limited, and our king is hoping an alliance will lead to an exchange of ideas, a way for your world and ours to help each other, and our allies could provide protection for your eastern gate. Perhaps if your king met with the princess I could introduce you to our allies as well..."

Ormand didn't like it. There was no question that an alliance would help the two kingdoms and make the king even richer than before. But a new wife meant probably at least one child, more obstacles between himself and the throne. But the rest of the council was desperate for some stability in the kingdom, and in the end Ormand could only go along with the rest of the council to meet with King Daenas and his daughter, and hope that she was too ugly for the king to want to marry.

"Well, of course that didn't happen..." Ormand grumbled to himself as he slowly led his horse through the moonlight toward the silent, ghostly dovecote.

Of course when they all reached that godforsaken windswept shore and the sea-king and his daughter rose out of the waves to meet them, the girl was beautiful.

Of course the sea-king was accompanied by huge sea serpents, their scales glistening silver in the sun, who were introduced as the allies who would protect the kingdom's ship from attack. All kings adored power, and those monsters looked very powerful.

Of course the king agreed to marry her, even decreed that a town be started and a castle built right on the spot.

And, of course they ended up having a brat who was just one more reminder that despite all his intelligence and breeding Ormand was going to die a lowly and forgotten steward, and he was never going to get what he wished for…

But that would not stop him from wishing for it. Not when reminders existed in the world that there was more than one road for the truly ambitious, more than one way to get what one desired. Ormand had not stopped thinking of that possibility all day, and now the reminder stood before him, dark and shrouded in nighttime mist but there, just out of his reach. Clinging to the ancient stones of the dovecote.

Ormand took a deep breath and looked about himself, suddenly conscious of the fact he'd been sitting in that field for what felt like an hour, just thinking. The moon was already past its crest, the time after midnight. Soon someone at the palace would wonder why he was out there so late alone, someone would ask questions. Best to see what answers he could find, and head back to that godforsaken castle.

Cautiously Ormand nudged his horse closer to the dovecote, puzzling over what he was looking at as the moonlight waxed and waned with the clouds. What had happened there? Even when the moon was bright and every detail was outlined, all he could see was a puzzle.

The roof of the dovecote was partially gone, half of it ripped and caved in, not from age or neglect as the tear was fresh and crisp-edged. There were no rotting pieces of wood jutting out, no cracked or broken roof tiles marking the edges of the hole. Ormand already knew what had happened there, the story was all over the palace: Prince Jasen had broken a hole in the ceiling to let the birds out.

But why? Ormand glanced over the outside of the structure, urged his horse forward. The story was there were birds in there and they wanted out, desperately, but the way was blocked by gigantic vines of thorns.

And there they were, climbing up the sides of the dovecote and towering over it by five or more feet. Huge, thick vines of thorns, the nettles so big and long Ormand could see them from twenty feet away. The dovecote was wrapped in them, consumed by them, in no natural configuration he had ever seen.

Thorns. Where there should not have been thorns growing at all.

They were magic, Ormand reasoned as he rode his horse closer. They had to be. Someone – a witch or warlock, probably – had made those thorns grow, very fast and very tall. And very sharp.

A very powerful being wanted very much for those birds to not escape. Why?

Ormand sighed at this question, and as he sighed he caught sight of the dovecote door, barely visible behind the thick forest of vines in front of it. The part of it that was visible was only so because a hole had been hacked into the vines. By the royal axmen, Ormand knew, because Prince Jasen and Rapunzel had been in there. In there, and trapped. Then freed because of a mysterious message delivered to the palace.

None of it made sense. Ormand didn't care where the prince bedded his dalliances, but what a confounded coincidence that the one place the prince might have been trapped and killed by an evil magic influence, he had been just as magically saved. In a perfect world he and his doxie would have been doomed, no one ventured by that dovecote anymore and there was no way out.

Yet they had been found. Somehow news that they were trapped reached the palace, but who even knew they were there except those blasted birds? Unless there was someone in the kingdom who could talk to birds…

Shaking his head at that absurd notion, Ormand steered his horse to the side of the dovecote and studied the thick, gnarled thorn vines that covered nearly every inch of the stones. The thorns spiked out in all directions, long and jagged and lethally sharp, like an explosion suspended in time.

Those nettles have to be six inches long, Ormand thought in admiration, and removing his glove very carefully reached out and touched his fingertip to the longest spike.

Instantly a bright stab of pain shot up his arm and Ormand drew his hand back, marveling at the drop of blood now blooming on the end of his finger. He lifted his eyes to the thorns again, let his gaze travel up the sides to the top, impossibly tall and lethal.

Magic had created that. Strong, powerful, malevolent magic.

And he wanted it.

"Excuse me – are you lost?"

Ormand turned in his saddle, his gloved hand immediately flying to the hilt of his sword at the voice coming from behind him.

Then he relaxed. Standing in the meadow about ten feet away was a hooded figure holding a lantern and carrying a large basket. The figure had long dark hair and was wearing a rustic-looking patched skirt. A woman.

"No," Ormand answered, seeing no need to be polite. He turned his horse around and prepared to ride past the woman before she recognized him as being from the palace.

He spurred his horse forward, in fact was halfway past the woman when she said, "Quite a work of art those thorns, eh? Now there's power."

Something in the way she said those words made Ormand rein his horse in and glance back. The hood of the woman's cape had fallen back from her face somewhat and revealed a wide face, large dark eyes, and graying brown hair braided away from her high cheekbones. She had lowered her lantern and was looking at Ormand very intently.

Still, he had no idea who she was and decided it was best to end the conversation and go home. He shrugged. "They're thorns. What are you doing on royal grounds in the middle of the night?"

The woman tilted her head. "The same as you, looking for things I need." she held up the basket, and Ormand saw that it was heaped with what looked like plain weeds and wildflowers.

"Those don't belong to you," Ormand threatened, angry at how unsettled this woman made him feel. "I could have you arrested for thievery for even picking them."

"Oh, please," the woman answered in a bored way, rolling her eyes. "I've been doing it for years, before an inch of this was even royal land. Arrest me and you'll be laughed at by the whole kingdom. But then, you're probably used to that. Being laughed at, I mean."

Ormand straightened in his saddle. "What do you mean by that remark?"

"Nothing," the woman waved her hand and walked past Ormand into the darkness. "You may go."

"Now see here!" Ormand seethed, turning his horse once again and following the woman – or rather her lantern – at a brisk walk. "Do you know who I am? I should have you imprisoned for your insolence!"

The woman shrugged again, as if Ormand wasn't the fourth-most powerful man in the kingdom.

"Imprisoning an old woman won't get you anything" she suggested idly, "but if you escort me to my cottage I may be able to help you get everything you want. Maybe even more."

Ormand frowned and studied the woods now ahead of them. Dark woods with tangled branches and thick black shadows.

He scowled, "Madam, if you have some of your ruffian friends hiding in there to waylay me, I can promise you you'll be sorry for the attempt. I am - "

"You," the woman halted and turned suddenly, looking at Ormand with eyes that glittered with knowing and contempt. "are the steward Ormand from the king's palace. And I am not trying to waylay you. I want to help you gain the throne."

Ormand stared at the woman open-mouthed. "I'm not – how dare you - "

The woman's smile was infuriating as she looked him up and down.

"You don't remember coming to my door twenty-five years ago looking for a witch powerful enough to help you kill the king," she purred. "But I remember you. You're older and fatter, of course, but...oh yes. I remember you. I never forget an ambition."

Ormand's blood froze. Panicking, he glanced around, suddenly worried about ears that could be hiding in those dark woods. Then he leaned forward in the saddle and whispered, "Damn your eyes, woman! How much to buy your silence?"

The woman smiled wider. "My price? An escort home and conversation. I have a feeling it's a price you're going to be very willing to pay."

Ormand straightened in the saddle, very slowly. He stared at this woman as hard as he could, her form wavering dark and light in the moonlight as it sifted through the clouds high overhead. He tried to remember her, couldn't. Those days were long behind him and mostly forgotten, his dreams so unattainable he had nearly stopped looking at them. They were locked away but still festered until he was mad with the pain, but knew what he wanted he could never have. Never…

He glanced over his shoulder. The dovecote stood pale in the moonlight, gripped in a gruesome wreath of jagged thorns, their black vines twisting toward the sky like a silent scream.

If those vines tightened, the dovecote would break, he thought, and did not know where that thought came from. If the vines tightened, the prince would die.

"His mistress, too," the woman said.

Ormand's head whipped around and he stared at her. Not frightened; intrigued. "Did you make those thorns?"

The woman smiled. "Walk with me," she said, and turned away.

Ormand followed, part of him wary and not entirely trusting of this strange woman who gathered herbs in the moonlight of the woods.

But another part – the louder, stronger part – urged him to clear his throat and ask, "So, who is having the honor of being escorted home by the king's steward? And why after all these years are you still living so far out here in the woods?"

"My name is Morrine," the woman said quietly over her shoulder, "And I enjoy the solitude of the woods. My daughter lived in the village, next door to a baker and his wife. They were horrible people."

"Is that so?" Ormand replied, already becoming bored. "Why?"

"They were thieves," Morrine replied, and there was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice. "And murderers. Because of them my daughter died, and one day the whole kingdom will pay for that."

Ormand frowned. "Oh? How?"

"With your help," Morrine answered sweetly. "Now, walk with me."


	8. Chapter 8

Rapunzel woke up.

At first she wasn't exactly sure where she was, except she was lying on something soft. Her mind felt fuzzy, as if it couldn't remember quite how to work. After a few deep breaths, she turned over very slowly and opened her eyes.

She was in a dark room that was not the Emerald Chamber. She blinked, and in the blue quiet gradually made out a cloth canopy.

A bed. She was lying in a bed.

Oh. Oh, yes. Another deep breath cleared more of the cobwebs, and Rapunzel remembered how she had gotten there. How she and Jasen had lain on the pillows in the Emerald Chamber and kissed and talked and made love for hours. How at last they heard a clock chiming somewhere, and Jasen sat up and said that soon the castle would be going to bed for the night, and they'd better go upstairs before someone came and got them.

Rapunzel understood – the room was a somewhat raucous mess, and it would not take much imagination for anyone to figure out what had been happening there, and there was decorum to think about. So, one more kiss, and they both rose a little unsteadily and arranged their clothes and hair so it didn't look like they'd just rolled out of a hayloft. Then Jasen offered his arm, Rapunzel took it, and they went upstairs.

Nadine was waiting at the foot of the grand staircase in the great hall, and next to her stood someone Rapunzel had not seen before, and she stared. Stared because although this person was wearing a dark blue doublet and trousers like any of the other courtiers, his skin was a light blue-green color and shimmered and his hair was silver and cascaded down his back to his waist. He was holding a jeweled cup in his slender fingers and smiled as Rapunzel and Jasen approached.

"Oh, this is perfect!" Jasen exclaimed, taking Rapunzel's hand and smiling at her. "Now I can introduce you to my dearest friend. Rapunzel, may I present Kendil, from the kingdom of Symdalis. Kendil, this is the young lady you always told me I'd meet someday. I guess I owe you that drink."

"More than one," Kendil replied with an arched eyebrow. He smiled at Rapunzel and made a courtly bow. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady."

Rapunzel managed a curtsey, but she could not force her eyes to lessen how wide they were. "Thank you. You're beautiful!"

Kendil laughed as he straightened, a musical sound like water running over smooth stones in a brook. "Thank you, my lady."

"Oh, now you've done it," Jasen groused good-naturedly as he took the cup Kendil offered him. "As if his head isn't swelled enough, being the only Symdalin in the castle! All of the women think he's beautiful."

"And some of the men, too," Nadine remarked.

Kendil shrugged and looked at Rapunzel with eyes that seemed to have no fixed color. Their hue shifted from blue to pearl to green, like an opal in sunlight. "Life is a learning experience. Drink your draught, Your Highness."

Whatever was in the cup, Jasen drank it quickly and handed the vessel back to Kendil with an appreciative nod.

"The day I was born Kendil offered his services to my mother," Jasen said proudly. "And he's been right here ever since, as my butler and my squire and he's even saved my life a few times!"

Rapunzel's mouth dropped open. "Really!"

Kendil nodded and gave her a calm smile. "He likes to climb."

"Oh, I remember that!" Nadine shook her head. "The walls, the tower roof, the trellis outside the main gate..."

"The mason's ladder, the library drapes, the tallest tree in the side garden..." Kendil continued.

"The bookshelves in the steward's room, the underside of the grand staircase - "

"Oh, yes, that was an interesting one - "

"Anyway!" Jasen grinned. "Thank you both, I think the point is made. I see the chandlers are already turning down the lanterns for the evening, and I'm sure Nadine and Kendil would like to retire themselves, so!" he turned to Rapunzel and kissed her hand. "Good night, my darling, and I'll see you in the morning."

Kendil sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Your Highness, Nadine and I have been waiting up here for half an hour. You can do better than that."

With a wicked grin Jasen took the challenge, swept Rapunzel into his arms and kissed her again, passionately and apparently to Nadine and Kendil's satisfaction. They applauded.

Then the prince walked up the floating staircase and Kendil walked beside him. As soon as they were halfway up, Nadine led Rapunzel up the same stairs and showed her to her bedchambers where she changed into a comfortable cotton nightgown, washed, and by the time the moon was rising in the room's high arched windows, she was in bed and asleep.

Until now.

Rapunzel sighed and stared upward in the cool darkness, watching as the gossamer canopy over her bed gradually became more and more visible, until she could see the pale pink roses that were embroidered into the fabric. She listened, and heard only the sound of her own heart beating and her breathing.

It wasn't like sleeping in her tower in the woods, where the animals and the wind were constantly rustling outside her window. It wasn't like sleeping at the king's palace either, where someone was always up and making noise even in the small hours of early morning.

No, this place was definitely different. The air was perfectly quiet, except for a low distant rumble that Rapunzel now knew was the sound of the sea not too far outside her window. There were no forest animals rustling for food or fighting; no squires or guardsman roaming the halls and talking too loudly between themselves. Everything was stillness and quiet.

Until Rapunzel heard voices.

She sat up.

It was well past midnight, and bright moonlight spilled into the bedchamber through the tall arched windows, making the polished wood floors gleam and illuminating the beautiful, delicate pieces of furniture scattered throughout the room. The only other light was a small lantern, its wick set very low, glowing dimly on a table by the doorway to the hall. Nadine had pointed it out to Rapunzel and told her to use if she had to go downstairs during the night for any reason, as the upstairs hall was not lit "and I made that nightgown special for you, we mustn't get it torn!"

Rapunzel sat very still in her bed and listened. The voices were definitely there, quiet and distant, not too far beyond her closed chamber door. Men's voices.

Men's voices...maybe something had happened and they were summoning the prince. Maybe her mother had returned and there was danger...

Wide awake now, Rapunzel slipped out of bed and padded to the door, putting her ear close to the crack in the doorframe.

Two men were talking, very low. The physician, Durwin, and Kendil. Then a third voice said something, and Rapunzel immediately recognized it. Jasen.

Very quietly and quickly, she opened the door.

The hallway was, as Nadine had warned, very dark. There was almost no light at all, creating a tunnel of gloom that was broken only by the opening into the great hall at the far end, where the moonlight shining through the large windows created a blue pool of bright light. Everything else was nearly pitch black.

Almost everything else. About halfway down the hall, Rapunzel spotted a narrow sliver of yellow candlelight coming from the doorway of the prince's chambers. The door was open about two inches, and the voices she heard were coming from there.

With a determined frown, Rapunzel gathered up the skirt of her nightgown and tiptoed down the hall, her bare feet making no noise against the needlepointed runner on the floor. As soon as she reached her beloved's door Rapunzel paused and listened, but no one was saying anything. Summoning her will – and holding her breath – she leaned into the light and looked into the room.

The first thing she saw was Jasen, sitting on the edge of his bed which was about ten feet from the door. The bed was set so the footboard faced the doorway and the prince was sitting on the left side, still clad in his nightshirt, his hair in sleepy disarray and his expression somewhere between embarrassed and worried. In front of him, sitting in a chair and leaning forward, was Durwin, who was lifting the prince's chin and looking very carefully at his eyes. Kendil stood nearby, his arms crossed and his shimmering face lined with concern.

"All right, it's been a few minutes," Durwin said, very quietly. "Any better?"

"A little," Jasen answered, in a voice just as low. "I mean – look, it wasn't that bad - "

"Liar," Kendil interrupted.

Jasen turned his head slightly to give his friend an irritated look, and immediately winced. "Ow."

"Told you."

Durwin sighed and leaned closer. "If you'd let me examine your injuries after dinner as I requested, I could have helped you then and spared Kendil the trouble of having to take me out of my wife's bed in the middle of the night. Hold still."

"Kendil's a worrywart," Jasen insisted as Durwin picked up a jar and dabbed some salve onto his fingers. "He's just mad because he doesn't have these fine bedchambers to himself anymore."

"Nor your wardrobe," Kendil quipped, frowning as he watched Durwin tap the salve onto the marks around Jasen's eyes. "Nor the quiet of a good night's sleep. But honestly, Jasen, I've slept in that antechamber behind me since you were out of your cradle. Did you think you could suffer an attack such as I heard and I would do nothing? Your grandfather would scale me."

An attack? Rapunzel remembered the nightmares and her heart sank.

Durwin tilted his head. "He's right. I really do wish I'd known you were in pain, Your Highness, I would have made that draught you had earlier tonight extra strong. How do your eyes feel now? Better?"

Jasen nodded – slowly – and brought one hand to his head. "I'm getting sleepy again too."

"Good," Durwin commented, scooting the chair back. "Don't touch the salve! Those cuts look like they might become inflamed, they're very deep. Kendil, please get the prince a night-cap - "

"That sounds great! Hey, Kendil, how about some wine - "

"I mean a night cap, that you put on your head, Your Highness. It will keep the salve in place so it can do its work."

"Aw..."

Durwin stood then, and Rapunzel retreated, standing for a moment in the darkness of the hallway, her heart sinking further. She took a step toward her room, not wanting to be discovered if the doctor or Kendil came outside. Then she realized she really didn't care about that, and instead walked in the other direction, toward the top landing of the staircase that led down to the great hall. Once there she stood at the elegantly carved white wooden railing and gazed at the room below.

The great hall was almost as beautiful in the moonlight as it had been in the blaze of day. The pale walls gleamed a frosty blue-white in the nighttime, the windows glinting colored shards of purple, pink and green as the rays of the moon streamed through them.

Rapunzel's eye was drawn to the wall that curved away from the staircase just in front of her, to the various paintings and portraits that decorated the wall from top to bottom. Most of the paintings were people and places she didn't recognize, although she did see one that looked like the king's palace. Slightly different, more brilliantly colored and surrounded by flowering trees she knew were not actually there, but still it was the king's palace.

Then her eye fell on another set of paintings, a clustered group of portraits arranged about halfway up the wall. She stared at them for a few moments, then slowly sat down where she was and wrapping her hands around the bannisters of the railing, leaned into them and gazed at the faces that were staring serenely back at her.

The royal family. Jasen's family. She knew it right away, of course it was, these portraits were easily the largest and grandest in the hall. In the center, a very large portrait of all of them, and set around the edges, individual portraits of each prince, the king and the queen.

There was the crown prince, set at the right side, a full-length portrait of Prince Maximilian in his velvet and gilded finest. Painted recently, perhaps a few years ago, he hadn't really changed that much. There was the confident – perhaps arrogant – stance, chin up, one hand on his hip and the other holding the leash of a large long-haired dog, every curving hair in place on both prince and canine. He wore a violet cape trimmed in ermine, and a golden circlet sat on his perfectly coiffed head. His sharp blue eyes looked at Rapunzel as if daring her not to be impressed.

On the other side of the family portrait hung a likeness of the second son, Robriand. Even if she had not known they were related, Rapunzel would have guessed immediately. Robriand and Maximilian had the same blue eyes, the same noble jawline, and the same cocky uptilt of the chin.

Their portraits, however, could not have been more dissimilar. Robriand was not standing serenely, holding a dog's leash, waiting to be admired. Instead he was seated on a rearing stallion, his blond hair as wild and untamed as the horse's. He wore a gleaming suit of golden armor and held a broadsword aloft in one hand. The lightning flashing in the background of the portrait illuminated three severed dragons' heads scattered on the rocks around him, lying in pools of black blood with their forked tongues hanging out of the mouths.

Still Robriand was smiling broadly for the painter, his shoulders back and his mouth open as if he was shouting in triumph.

In that moment Rapunzel understood, a little, why her prince was so eager to jump out of her window and perform acts of daring heroism every time he visited her in her tower. These were the brothers he was called on to live up to, every day. Perfect in peace and war. One had to be brilliant just to be noticed!

It took Rapunzel a moment of searching, but she found Jasen's portrait, centered beneath the large one in the center. It was not as grand as the first two, but it was the most colorful as it depicted him as a young man of perhaps twenty, standing by a wall covered in flowering vines in front of a wide expanse of distant blue. The ocean, Rapunzel realized, and noticed that Jasen had one hand placed on the rim of the wall while the other held a large, round object that reminded her of the scalloped images she saw in the grotto. Perhaps it was something from the sea. She would have to ask him…

Finally her eyes travelled to the center, to the large family portrait that dominated the collection.

There was the king, seated on the right in one of the two thrones in the picture. He had the same piercing bright blue eyes he had passed on to his sons, and the same confident uplift of his chin. His hair was white, but had likely once been blond, and fell in full carefully brushed waves to his slender shoulders. A majestic-looking crown sat on his head and he wore a commanding, regal expression that Rapunzel could tell would brook no argument or excuse. His red and ermine cape was arranged carefully around a blazing white and gold doublet and tons of jewels. Trousers, hose and shoes of white trimmed in gold completed the royal ensemble. He looked every inch a king.

Maximilian stood to his right, Robriand beside his brother, both standing still but smiling beside their father, wearing regal attire that was fine, but not as fine as the king's. When Rapunzel looked at them she realized this was not a portrait that had been painted recently, for both princes looked to be in their slender, still-growing teenage years, although Maxim could have been close to twenty.

And Jasen -he looked younger still, perhaps ten, seeming quite small as he stood on the other side of the family, his blond hair brushed and neat and his face smiling genially as he stood beside the throne of his mother, the second queen.

His mother, Nimianae of Symdalis.

Rapunzel let her eyes rest on that face last. She wasn't sure why; perhaps she was a little afraid of what she had to live up to. She thought perhaps Daenas' daughter would look like Kendil, beautifully exotic, after all she was of the same race. But when Rapunzel finally gathered the courage to look, she noticed that Jasen's mother did not have shimmering blue-green skin or opal eyes as Kendil did. She was, however, still beautiful.

She had her father's chestnut hair, curling and full as it fell over her soft white shoulders. Her face was heart-shaped, her eyes not very large but they looked kind. She was smiling, her posture erect, her chin lifted as high as her husband's, almost in defiance.

Rapunzel looked at the queen's hands and saw that while they rested in her lap, in one hand she held a sword whose hilt was made of pink stone and set with pearls. The blade of the sword that lay across her lap was long, narrow, and transparent.

That's like my water-dagger, Rapunzel realized as she peered more closely. It did indeed look as if the blade was made of water, but the weapon the queen held was no mere dagger – it was large, and looked sharp and dangerous. Newly impressed, Rapunzel looked at Nimianae's face again.

The queen gazed back, and this time Rapunzel looked closer and saw not only beauty, but the determined confidence of a woman who knew exactly what her place was in the world. A place that she would not trade it for anything, and she would defend to the last.

Jasen stood close by his mother's chair, his left hand resting on her elbow and his right resting on the pommel of the ceremonial sword he wore. Unlike the ornate white his brothers wore, Jasen's clothes were green and blue, to match his mother's royal gown.

Blue and white, two sets of people in one family. But no, Rapunzel realized sadly as she gazed at the portrait. It was very obvious to her that this was not one family at all but two distinct households bound only by the king's blood.

Rapunzel remembered the portraits at the king's palace, hung in the great hall as this one was. A similar arrangement, the king with his first queen and their two sons, Maxim and Robriand, painted when Maxim was perhaps five and Robriand two or three. A royal portrait as this one was, but much larger and more ornate. The king wore the same robes, but Maxim was dressed in an ermine-lined cape with a coronet on his tow-headed brow; and he wore a silk sash of deepest purple over his fine satin doublet and breeches, embroidered with gold and silver. Even as a child he stood erect, shoulders back and chin held high, his blue eyes matching his father's for aloofness and clarity. He was born to be a ruler, and he knew it.

Robriand of course was too young to know why he was wearing gold and silks, too young to understand why a circlet of gold covered his wispy light blond hair. He sat in his mother's lap, her hands holding him firmly as his little arms lifted to the sky, as if he could not hold still for even a moment. Rapunzel imagined that whoever painted the portrait had simply given up telling the young prince to sit still, and did the best that could be done. His expression was one of rosy-cheeked, happy oblivion.

The queen in that portrait had not been smiling, as Jasen's mother was. She had been dressed in flowing robes and a beautiful red and white gown to match the king's, but her face had been tight-lipped and stern without a hint of color in the cheeks. As if she was angry; as if she was unhappy.

The king and the young crown prince in that portrait did not seem to notice, just as the king and the older princes did not seem to notice Jasen and his mother in this one. There was a warmth to this one, or maybe, Rapunzel thought, it was her imagination; but it seemed as if the king's first wife had been very aware of her royal title, and duty, and obligations. She had worn that mantle with brittle impatience.

Jasen's mother, though…Rapunzel tucked her slippered feet beneath herself and sighed, studying the face of this daughter of the sea. She wore a look of peaceful contentment, as if she had all that she ever wanted in the child standing beside her and would never ask for anything else. She had left her world and everything she knew, but she did not look sad or angry or anxious; she bore the determined expression of one who would never look back. Rapunzel gazed at those kind eyes and wondered how she did it.

Behind her, in the hallway, Rapunzel heard low voices, and then a door closed. Footsteps; someone was coming down the hall toward the stairs. She realized that she didn't care if whoever it was came upon her, so she stayed where she was and didn't even glance up when the footsteps came close and passed her.

Then they paused, and she heard the physician's voice, very quiet. "Rapunzel? Are you all right?"

She looked up then, met Durwin's eyes and saw concern there. Still didn't feel like getting up. She nodded and shrugged a little.

She was forming words in her mind to explain what she was doing, but it turned out she didn't have to. Without a pause Durwin turned around and handed the large box he was carrying to a young curly-headed boy who was standing behind him.

"Benjamin, take this and go along," he requested in an authoritative but kind tone. "Tell your mother I'll be there in just a few minutes."

The boy nodded and immediately took the box and trotted down the stairs into the puddles of moonlight in the great hall below. Rapunzel could hear his feet padding into the distance as she turned back to gaze at the portraits. Durwin paused, then sat down beside her and turned his eyes in the same direction.

Rapunzel looked down at her hands, now folded loosely in her lap. "How is the prince?"

"He's better," Durwin answered, as if a conversation between a peasant girl and a royal physician in the middle of the night at the top of the staircase in the grand hall of the royal summer palace was the most natural thing in the world. "Kendil heard him muttering and summoned me, I think those cuts around his eyes are bothering him and all the excitement today gave him a headache. I gave him something to help him sleep and he finally dropped off."

Those cuts around his eyes are bothering him...Rapunzel felt a pang of guilt and winced, looked away but Durwin must have been very perceptive because a moment later he said, very quietly, "Rapunzel?"

It was less a name than a plea. Rapunzel turned her head and looked at him.

Durwin took a deep breath. "I don't wish to intrude, but if you know anything about how the prince came by those marks I would be very grateful if you told me. I can't heal him properly if I don't know."

Rapunzel blinked, thrown. "He - Jasen told me they didn't hurt."

"I know," Durwin sighed, shaking his head. "He told me too, and Yates, tried to shrug it off but they aren't just on his face, they're on his neck and chest too and they aren't healing. Kendil didn't tell me exactly what he was saying in his sleep but he did mention the words 'can't see'. And your name, over and over. Desperate, Kendil said."

Tears suddenly choked Rapunzel's throat and she put her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. An awful memory came back, one she never wanted to think about again: her prince stumbling toward her in the murky moonlight of the swamp, his shirt torn and bloodstained, his eyes bound with a crude bandage. His hands out, searching, and she was so far away! And those words, exhausted, anguished: I'm blind, I can't see -

"My mother," Rapunzel blurted, opening her eyes and letting the tears spill down her cheeks. "She – she didn't want us to be together, she...there was a rose thicket by where I lived she made it grow and he fell into it."

"Made it grow? You mean through magic?"

There it was; perhaps he would think she was a monster now. She nodded.

"Hm," Durwin grunted, and to Rapunzel's surprise he reached out and took her hand.

"My dear, thank you," he said, and when she looked at him in shock she saw he was smiling. "I know what I'm dealing with now. Those marks will be gone within the week."

"You - " Rapunzel blinked away her tears and regarded Durwin with surprise. "They will?"

"Of course," Durwin replied, lifting his chin. "You don't get to be a royal physician without seeing your share of injuries caused by magic, let me assure you! Especially in this household. Different poultices, but it all gets to the same place. Here."

Durwin reached into his pocket and with a flourish pulled out a handkerchief, which he handed to Rapunzel. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

"It's all right," Rapunzel replied, accepting the handkerchief and dabbing her eyes. "It isn't you. It's just – I wish my mother hadn't done that to him. I hate that she hurt him."

"But you were there to save him," Durwin pointed out. "I asked him who healed his eyes, I could tell they'd been injured. He told me you healed them."

Rapunzel took a deep breath and shook her head. "I wept for him, the salt in my tears healed his eyes, something about his sea blood answering it. King Daenas said so."

"Like I said," Durwin smiled, laying his hand on Rapunzel's shoulder and pressing it there. "You healed him. That's remarkable. Where's your mother now?"

"Gone. I never want to see her again," Rapunzel snapped, angrier than she intended but the memories still made her so mad and she wanted Durwin to know she would never let her mother get close enough to Jasen to hurt him again. Never -

Then she took a deep breath, closed her eyes. Let the anger go, it's over, this is your life now...taking another deep, slow breath and opening her eyes turned them to the wide expanse in front of them, to the portraits hanging there.

Paused. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Rapunzel sniffed. "How did Jasen's mother die?"

"Ah," Durwin cleared his throat and shifted his legs so they were crossed in front of him, and settled his elbows on his knees laced his fingers together. "Jasen's mother. Now there was a remarkable lady. And the story is remarkable, if you don't mind me taking the time to tell it. Sure you're not sleepy?"

Rapunzel shook her head and tucked her knees up, wrapping her arms around them.

Durwin took a deep breath and smiled. "Right then. Jasen's mother. Nimianae her name was in Symdalin, but that was a bit of a mouthful for everyone around here so she said we could just call her Anne; I called her Nimianae anyway. I wasn't much older than Benjamin when she came ashore, that was almost twenty-five years ago. She was King Daenas' eldest daughter, and the fastest swimmer in the sea. And she was beautiful."

"I thought she'd look like Kendil," Rapunzel admitted as she lowered the handkerchief into her lap. "But she doesn't. King Daenas doesn't either, he looks like us. Why is that?"

"Mermaid magic," Durwin explained with a smile, "Any of them can look as much or little like us humans as they like. Now Kendil, he wears his Symdalin skin and eyes and hair as a matter of pride, and I think he likes to cause a stir. King Daenas, he only looks like us when he comes to visit. I've seen him out on the ocean and his skin is bluer than Kendil's."

"And they can live out of the water?"

"Given some time to adapt before they leave it, yes." Durwin explained as he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Kendil claims they're descended from the silver serpents that live in the deep. You've probably never seen one of those, but I have. They're majestic creatures, and they can come ashore too when they've a mind to."

"What do they look like?"

"Like dragons, but long and slender, and they don't have wings. Kendil will show you one I'm sure, he's great friends with most of them. He even rode one once, for ceremony's sake he said but I'm sure it was just to show off. That was on the day the king and Nimianae were married."

Rapunzel lifted her eyes to the portrait and frowned in puzzlement. "That must have been so strange for her."

Durwin nodded in agreement. "Aye, the whole situation was a little odd at first. The king agreed with the match just because of the promised of increased trade. We all thought he wanted a new mother for Maxim and Robriand too, but Nimianae didn't end up going to live at the king's palace. He said he had the matter covered and that it was just fine if she wanted to live closer to the shore. We came to find out he'd taken on with a nobleman's wife, Therese, and she and her ladies was raising the princes. So he wasn't much interested in having Nimianae at the palace."

"Then they didn't love each other?" Rapunzel asked.

"I wouldn't call it love, no," Durwin answered, a touch of diplomacy in his voice. "You're young, miss, and it's hard to explain how these things work but...most kings do not marry for love, no matter what the fairy tales say. They marry to unite kingdoms, stop wars, or help trade. Unromantic things like that."

"Oh," Rapunzel murmured in disappointment. She looked at the portraits sadly.

"But it's not as tragic as it sounds, I can assure you," Durwin hastened to add. "The king and Nimianae did spend their wedding night together, and he built her this splendid castle and the town by the sea as his wedding gift to her. Once Jasen was born this is where he and his mother lived, and during the summer the rest of the royal family would come here and stay a few months. Jasen and his brothers played together, the king relaxed a little and was courtly enough I suppose. But then Nimianae already had everything she wanted in this life so his dalliances meant nothing to her. She loved being a mother, as I'm sure you can see by the light in her son's eyes."

Rapunzel smiled and nodded.

Durwin turned to study the portrait again. "I must tell you, though, that Jasen's mother didn't quite look like that portrait depicts her. Her eyes were like Kendil's, always changing color; and she liked the pearly sheen of her skin and kept it all of her life."

Rapunzel looked at the portrait. "Then – why does - "

"The king had the portrait – ah – touched up following the queen's passing," Durwin said, in tones that revealed very plainly how he felt about the matter. "He wanted every one in the palace redone, but there's a small one in the prince's room, in an oval frame by his dressing table, that depicts her as she really looked. I don't know what Kendil threatened the king with that convinced him to leave that one alone, but whatever it was, it worked."

Rapunzel's heart sank again, and she turned to gaze down the hallway where her prince lay sleeping.

"Jasen had no say in the matter, he was still a child and by that time he'd been taken to the palace to live with his brothers," Durwin continued, his voice growing soft with recollection. "That was a long time ago, he was...ten? Eleven? Eleven. So, twelve years. Twelve years since Queen Nimianae died."

Rapunzel turned back, giving Durwin her full attention.

"Now, it's not well-known much beyond the gates," Durwin began, "But once long ago, this kingdom was threatened, not by giants or dragons but by the red sea serpents that live deep in the ocean. They're not like the silver serpents. They're vicious and greedy, and back then they were led by a huge scaly monstrosity of a serpent queen named Vashrath. And Vashrath wanted the riches of Daenas' kingdom."

Rapunzel's eyes widened.

Durwin took a deep breath, looked down to focus his thoughts. "The red serpents attacked Symdalis, sank ships, killed scores of sailors and tradesmen. The Symdalin forces could do nothing because sea serpent blood is deadly to any nearby creature when it's spilled. King Daenas warned the king not to send any ships to sea, the silver serpents were trying to drive the red serpents back and it was ugly. There was lots of blood and thrashing, you see. Just falling into the sea could kill you."

Rapunzel nodded, and scooted closer to hear Durwin's whispered words better.

"Now Nimianae and her father, they had seen the serpents battle, they knew how serious it was. Sea serpents know magic just as humans do, and things happened during that time no one could explain. First the moon turned black, then it was covered by thick purple thunderclouds. The seas churned, the sky filled with lightning for three days."

Rapunzel shuddered.

"No one knew what to do," Durwin sighed with a shake of his head. "Everyone in the village fled inland. Kendil wanted to stay, but Nimianae insisted he take Jasen to stay at the king's palace with the rest of the castle staff. She refused to leave her father."

Rapunzel's eyes widened further. "Where did you go?"

"I stayed here," Durwin's eyes swept the expanse of the great hall. "With Yates and some of the soldiers. We practically lived in the Emerald Chambers, Daenas sent emissaries every hour to tell us what was happening. Around midnight on the third day we received the worst news of all: the red serpents had pushed the silver ones almost to our shore, and the next day the battle would be joined on land. In the kingdom."

Rapunzel gasped.

Durwin looked down and shook his head. "It's hard to describe how dire the situation was. We could see the oceans churning from our windows, hear the monstrous thrashing and the roars. Half of Daenas' kingdom was destroyed, and his people were refugeeing to any pond and river they could find to escape the carnage. His daughters were terrified, they had long fled to calmer waters up the coast and he let them go because he didn't want to see them die."

Rapunzel took a breath and it hitched in her throat. "Where was Jasen's mother?"

Durwin winced. "That night King Daenas sent word she was to flee the castle immediately. She excused herself to prepare to leave, and when Nadine went to check on her all she found was a letter and her clothes piled on the floor. Do you see the sword she's holding in the portrait? The one with the coral and pearl handle?"

Rapunzel looked at the portrait and nodded.

Durwin took a deep breath. "That's a Symdalin water-sword, King Daenas' wedding gift to his daughter. That night, the box where she'd kept it was found open and empty. The window to her chambers was open, and Nimianae – and the sword - were gone."

Rapunzel's mouth dropped open.

"She'd changed, you see," Durwin whispered, and when he looked at Rapunzel she saw tears shining in his eyes. "Changed to her Symdalin form and gone into the sea. No one could follow her, she was so fast. No one could catch her in time."

Rapunzel took a deep breath, blinked and discovered she had tears in her eyes too. "In time?"

Durwin sighed and nodded. "She swam out to sea, found Vashrath, and plunged that sword into her eye."

Rapunzel felt her skin go cold.

"We didn't know that, at the time," Durwin murmured, "We didn't know what had happened, only that the red serpents suddenly turned tail and fled back into the deep. The waves calmed, the clamor ceased. The clouds rolled back and it was just before sunrise. Her sisters found her, lying on a small rocky island far out in the sea, the blood still in her hair and on her skin. She'd lived just long enough to go where someone could find her. And then she'd died."

Rapunzel bowed her head and felt two tears fall. Words wouldn't come.

Durwin paused and cleared his throat. "The king...was told of course, and his first response was to send the steward to secure King Daenas' promise that the queen's death would not alter their trade agreement. After that came word that Prince Jasen would remain at the palace and by raised with his brothers, and the castle by the sea would be maintained as a summer residence for the royal family. And that was the last he said on the subject."

Rapunzel lifted the handkerchief she held to her eyes, and in this kind man's presence was not ashamed of her tears.

"I think I saw every one of King Daenas' people, and the silver serpents too, the day they lay Nimianae's ashes to rest in the grotto," Durwin continued, lifted his eyes to the ceiling, remembering. "It was a grand Symdalin ceremony and they all came, used their water-magic to carve a tomb for her and sing and weep and comfort King Daenas and his daughters. Kendil came, and brought Jasen, and I gave him the letter his mother had written to him. He would have gotten the coral water-sword too, but it was lost to the sea. The king didn't come to the ceremony, but I think that's just as well. Yes; that was really for the best."

Rapunzel took another deep breath, gazed at the tear-soaked handkerchief. "Oh, my poor darling," she whispered.

Durwin nodded in agreement. "Yes, he took it hard, but whatever she wrote in the letter helped, and he told anyone who would listen that his mother was braver than any knight, any king, any wizard who ever lived. Her influence never left him, and her light has never faded from his eyes. And that's the story. I'm sorry it isn't a happier one."

Rapunzel blinked again, wiped her eyes and reaching out took Durwin's hand. She realized it was trembling. "Thank you."

Durwin smiled sadly and laid his hand over hers, pressed it. "No, thank you, miss. Often I despaired that Jasen would find someone to fill his heart, someone worthy of not just his title but also his spirit, which is the mirror of his mother's. I believe that someone is you, and I consider myself a pretty good judge of character."

Rapunzel smiled through her tears. "I can't wait to be his wife."

Durwin's smile faltered a bit, and his eyes met Rapunzel's with a wise urgency. "And I sincerely hope that day is not long coming. But my dear, I feel I must tell you - it isn't as simple as that. Prince Jasen loves you, that much is clear, but he can only marry you with the king's consent."

Rapunzel's breath caught in her throat for a moment, and she blinked at Durwin in confusion. "But – we have that. At the palace, when we were there for the crown prince's wedding, no one said anything at all - "

"I know," Durwin winced sympathetically and patted Rapunzel's hand. "I know, but...well, I'm sorry, but there's no easy way to say this. Before you and Prince Jasen arrived we received word that the crown prince's bride is – gone."

Rapunzel's breath froze in her throat with shock. When she could speak again she whispered, "Gone? Was she - "

"Killed by the giant? The letter from the palace didn't say. She shouldn't have been, very likely she stayed in safety at the palace after the giant attacked, and if she had been killed we'd all be preparing for a royal funeral. So I'm not sure what happened except the letter said very plainly that the crown prince is no longer married."

Rapunzel felt her blood go cold. She gripped Durwin's hands and stared at him, numb. "And – that means I can't marry Jasen?"

Durwin winced again and sighed. "It might, at least not right away. His Majesty has always been very conscious of appearances, you see. He's always been very insistent that none of his other sons marry before the crown prince does."

Rapunzel's eyes widened, her mind fluttering about, looking for words to express the sudden panic she was feeling. Finally she asked, "Does Prince Jasen know?"

Durwin shook his head. "Not yet. Ormand thought we should get some more details before telling the prince. I wouldn't have told you except...well, it's a shame, but if you're going to be part of royal life you need to know how things work in royal household. I am sorry you have to wait, though, because I can already see how good you're going to be for each other."

Rapunzel smiled a little and looked down, her mind still spinning.

"Take heart, my dear," Durwin smiled, his voice lightening. "There's always hope Maxim will reconcile with his wife, or if not, he's so charming he'll find another before long. In the meantime, I'm sure no one will object if the prince allows you to be a guest here. Nadine will be thrilled to have someone to sew for and you've obviously won over King Daenas. And if you make the prince happy, then I'm happy."

Rapunzel looked up, brightening at those words. "I can stay here? And the king won't mind?"

Durwin shrugged. "He's many leagues away, and has a kingdom decimated by a giant to rebuild. If no one tells him I doubt he'll notice on his own. And if he does notice hopefully he'll be too busy planning the crown prince's next wedding to care."

Rapunzel smiled gratefully at that light jest and pressed Durwin's hand again in silent thanks.

"Now, it's late," Durwin said, patting Rapunzel's hand and slowly rising to his feet. "And I'm sure you have a long day of exploring your new home ahead of you tomorrow. As court physician I decree that we both get our rest."

Rapunzel nodded and held out Durwin's handkerchief for him to take.

"And just so you know," Durwin continued, accepting the handkerchief with a nod. "I left some of the draught I gave the prince in his room. Just so you know. And Kendil is there, so if you happen to drink some and by some accident just happen to fall asleep in the prince's bed, he has the strength of ten men and can very easily carry you back to your chambers before anyone else in the castle wakes up."

"Even Nadine?" Rapunzel whispered. "She told me she gets up very early."

"Now, don't be worrying about Nadine," Durwin smiled, and tucked the folded handkerchief in his pocket. "She's a very fine woman, very understanding. She also happens to be my wife."

He winked, and held out his hand.

Smiling, Rapunzel took it and stood, wiped away the last of her tears and once again pressed the physician's hands gratefully.

"Just don't wake him up," Durwin whispered, and released Rapunzel's hands gave her a final nod. "Good night."

"Good night," Rapunzel murmured in reply, but by then Durwin had already turned and was heading for the stairs. Biting her lip in conspiratorial happiness, she gathered her skirt in her hands and tiptoed to the prince's room.

The door was shut, but she managed to turn the handle and open it without making much noise. Like her room, it was very dimly lit by only one lantern glimmering by the door. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

There was just enough light for her make her way to the bed, just enough light for her to see her prince lying curled on one side, his blond hair in floppy disarray over his face and his cheeks rosy in a deep sleep. His hands lay loose against his chest and as she watched, they twitched. Once, then again, and he winced. A tiny muttered sound escaped his throat.

Very carefully, Rapunzel climbed onto the bed behind him, curled herself so she was laying against his back and wrapped her left arm around him, taking his hands in hers. They were cool to the touch and she clasped them, tucked her head close to his and slipped her right arm beneath him so she could embrace him fully.

In this way she was facing what she assumed was the doorway to Kendil's bedchamber; it was completely dark but the door was open. She heard something creak, and for a moment despaired that she would be discovered and sent back to her room. Indeed Kendil did lean around the doorframe for a moment, and even in that dim light she could make out a puzzled frown on his shimmering face. Then their eyes met, and without pausing he nodded and withdrew.

She was safe. She felt Jasen move in his sleep, snuggled close against him and burrowed her face into his hair, catching the scent of the soap and perfume there. She sighed and knew she would not need the draught to sleep, not now. But there was one thing -

Rapunzel lifted her head, searched the room until she found the door once more, then the table beside it, then the mirror that hung over the prince's dressing table. Then the oval portrait that hung beside it.

She was beautiful, Jasen's mother. That much was evident even in the barely-there glow of the lantern. Even in that gloom Rapunzel could see the opal eyes, the hair that was more deep blue-green than chestnut, and skin that held pearly highlights expertly captured by the painter's brush.

She was special, Jasen's mother. Mermaid or human, she was brave in a way Rapunzel wasn't sure she could be brave, loving in a way no one had ever taught Rapunzel to be. The love Rapunzel had for her prince was instinct, need, raw and maybe not enough. Could she ever be worthy of the gift King Daenas' daughter had left behind?

Her own mother had warned her about the world, said she would never be safe there, that she didn't know what was out there. And it was true; Rapunzel didn't know. She had not known half of what was out there, until tonight. For a moment, Rapunzel longed for the safety of her tower and felt afraid.

Then Jasen's hands twitched again, and she held them. Curved herself tight against him so he could feel her presence even in his sleep. Held him until he relaxed again, and she knew that he was all right.

She realized a moment later that all her fear was gone; let him need her, and in an instant that was her world and purpose. Nothing else existed.

Is that what bravery is? Rapunzel wondered. She settled herself against her beloved's hair and let her closing eyes gaze on the portrait one moment more. Is that what she felt, all those years ago? You fear, and then you know what you have to do and the fear is gone. Perhaps. Perhaps they would be fortunate in their love, and she would never have to find out.

Rapunzel closed her eyes and fell asleep.

\------------------------------------------

"This is where he will die."

Ormand gazed at the spot that Morrine was pointing to as she spoke, then looked about himself uncertainly.

They were deep in the woods, standing by a stream that ran along the bottom of a steep-walled hollow. The stream had long since narrowed, but the dirt-sided valley remained, lined by thick trees along its sides and shaded into almost total darkness, even though the moon was still shining brightly. Brightly enough for Ormand to see Morrine's dark eyes, look into them, and shake his head. He wasn't sure.

They had been riding, walking, and talking for two hours. They talked about a great many things, but mostly about how Morrine remembered Ormand from his previous visit and how astonished she was that he wasn't running the kingdom already, "Especially since you'd be so much better at it than the rutting goat sitting on the throne!"

Ormand didn't argue, of course. It seemed that Morrine already knew what he wanted, so he never even came right out and said that he wanted to kill the prince. He was happy to not do so, especially when at one point during their travels he heard a horse neigh in the far distance and looked cautiously over his shoulder. "We're being followed."

"I know," Morrine had shrugged, and waved her hand. "Taken care of. Don't worry, I have ways to keep mice from the door."

So they walked, and talked, and discussed the best way to take action. Morrine did not say much herself until they reached a certain point deep in the woods. Then she pointed to a dark, thick clump of trees nearby and said, "This way. I know just the spot."

She led, and Ormand followed. When they reached the top of the hollow Ormand knew his horse could never make the steep hill to the bottom, so he tied it to a nearby tree. By the time he had done so, Morrine was already expertly hopping from one stone to another to the bottom, her lantern still in one hand.

He followed – clumsily, he was dressed in his cape and riding boots and not for a muddy hike – and as he descended the thick trees looming overhead and high, almost unscalable walls of dirt on either side gave the place a feeling of being in a venus flytrap, or a clutching fist. There was just as much air there as above, but he had a hard time breathing.

At the bottom it was no better. The stream was not a healthy, babbling brook but a sluggish, thick morass of old tangled vines and dead moss. It glinted in the moonlight not like silver but like old lead, dull and lifeless.

Close by these diseased banks a knot of trees stood, once living but long since starved of sunlight and ravaged by insects. Now they stood like a jagged mass of brittle bones, white and stark against the lanternlight.

Morrine had pointed there and said simply, "This is where he will die."

Ormand gazed at the spot, a cold barren patch of mud in the middle of nowhere. He pictured Prince Jasen lying there, his throat cut perhaps or run through by a mercenary's sword, and the image of that entitled brat's lifeblood leaching out into the freezing waste was an attractive one. For a moment, his dream was within reach…

Then he thought a little harder, crossed his arms and shook his head. "Impossible. There are so many obstacles in this plan I can't begin to describe them."

Morrine lowered the lantern and quirked a smile. "Try me."

"How could we draw him out here? This is a hole in the most wretched part of the kingdom!"

"The child's in the cavalry, isn't he?" Morrine replied. "If he's a heroic fool like so many of them are, all you need is a threat to the kingdom and he'll come."

"His brother didn't. The kingdom had a giant wreaking havoc everywhere and the crown prince stayed very solidly right where he was."

"I said 'heroic' fool. The crown prince is not a hero."

Ormand thought for a moment, then decided to concede the point. "Prince Jasen is a fool, but the leader of the cavalry isn't. Yates won't ride all the way out here just on my say-so, and certainly not with the prince. The threat has to be real or he won't swallow it."

Morrine smiled. "The threat will be real. Give me a day or so, and it will be very real."

Ormand wasn't sure what that meant, but the confident gleam in Morrine's eye told him she had an idea, and that was good enough for him. Still, he shook his head again. "Yates will never leave the prince unguarded. If you can get him down here, in the mud, and in a position to be killed, you're a better sorceress than I've ever seen."

"I will do both, and then accept your apology," Morrine squared her shoulders.

Ormand stared at the ground, turned the possibilities over in his mind. He'd never looked at his wish as something that he would ever be in a position to actually achieve. That possibility opened up new problems he'd never seen before. "The last time I considered taking the throne I only had two princes to deal with, and they were both small enough to throw out a nursery window. Perhaps this is foolhardy now. The king is bedridden but Maxim and Robriand - "

"- are problems for another day," Morrine advised, "Dispose of Prince Jasen, and the seaside kingdom is yours. From there you can take your time and with my help, clear away the rest of the royal family in ways that will never be questioned. Just as Prince Jasen's death will never be questioned."

Ormand crossed his arms. "You're sure about that. The king won't care about the death of his youngest son?"

Morrine smiled slyly. "You know the answer to that as well as I do. He's third-born, unneeded. The king barely cares about him alive."

Ormand nodded. Certainly that was true. "And King Daenas? What about him?"

"Trust me. That's not your problem."

Ormand inhaled slowly, exhaled and studied the ground. In the murky light it looked black and red, as if it was already soaked in the prince's blood. Was that possible?

"What about the girl?" Morrine asked suddenly. "What are your plans for her?"

"Who, Rapunzel?" Ormand glanced up and made a face. "She's nobody, a peasant. I've already made arrangements for her removal. She's not important."

"You need her dead," Morrine stated flatly.

Ormand shrugged. "What for? If the prince is dispatched she has no claim on the throne. The king certainly doesn't care about her. I have more important things to worry about - "

"You fool," Morrine scowled as her black eyes glittered. "What do you think they've been doing every night since they met? If she's with child it's King Daenas you'll be going to war with."

"Oh," Ormand's ego promptly deflated. "I hadn't thought of that. But certainly a powerful sorceress like you could battle him?"

Morrine shook her head. "Not for the likes of you," she answered. "This kingdom isn't worth that."

"Hm," Ormand sighed and scratched his head. He'd only ever dreamed of killing the prince and taking power. Dealing with worthless peasant girls had never entered his mind. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Bring her to my house," Morrine commanded, raising her chin until her face looked quite ghastly in the lantern light. "She needs to be taught a lesson. I had a daughter once, and they both have the same problems with obedience. Bring her to me, and you won't have to worry about her anymore."

Ormand lowered his hand and frowned. "I thought you said she needed to be dead. You sound like you're going to scold her."

Morrine shrugged. "Scold first, then kill. The other way around isn't as effective."

"Ah," Ormand set his arms akimbo and stared down at the muddy patch of ground. "I'm taking a great risk with you, madam, and I must confess that I don't quite understand why you're taking this on. Why should a witch care who is king?"

"I don't care who is king," Morrine answered, following Ormand's gaze to the muddy patch of ground.

"Then what's in it for you?"

"Revenge," Morrine said, in a strangely light way, her eyes glittering as she raised them to meet Ormand's. "Satisfaction. That girl destroyed something of mine and I want to make her suffer for it. And then I want her to die."

Ormand didn't like the glint in Morrine's eye; he was glad it wasn't for him. Well, he hoped it wasn't at any rate. "And the prince?"

Morrine smiled wider. "His death is good too. My way of getting back at his mother."

That made Ormand straighten in surprise. "Prince Jasen's mother? What does Queen Nimianae have to do with any of this?"

"It's time to go," Morrine declared, and quickly stepped away from the banks of the murky river and crossed to the steep bank. "It will be sunrise before long, and you still have to accompany me home."

Ormand was very sure he didn't like the witch's sudden evasiveness, but as he followed her decided that witches were strange anyway, and as long as he got what he wished for it really didn't matter who was getting revenge for what.

"I will accompany you right to your door," he promised, accepting the vine Morrine offered to pull himself up the slope. "As long as you promise me one thing."

Morrine had a vine in both hands, and looked over her shoulder at him.

Ormand took a deep breath, "Let me at least witness the spilling of the prince's blood."

Morrine smiled. "Deliver the girl to me, I'll let you deal the death blow."

Then she gripped the vine, climbed, and Ormand quickly and enthusiastically followed.


	9. Chapter 9

When Rapunzel awoke, it was morning and sunlight was streaming through the stained-glass bedroom windows.

She woke slowly, expecting to hear birds singing. That had been her wake-up call every morning of her life, and even at the palace there were trees near her bedchamber window, and birds. She had never brushed the sleep from her eyes without hearing them.

Until now. Now, even in the soft depths of slumber she strained to hear that familiar song and when she didn't hear it listened harder, until her ears hurt with the effort.

Still nothing – no sound at all, except for some vague distant rustling noises and a conversation being held far away. Rapunzel was just asleep enough to be confused and thought, *I know I left the window open last night, I always do in the spring. Something happened. The birds are all dead. Someone cursed them, someone sent them away. *

Her mother. Her mother had found them, it was too late – the thorns were everywhere, piercing and blinding and killing – the birds were all dead -

"No!" Rapunzel called out, and opened her eyes.

She was lying on her back, in the soft white bed with the embroidered canopy. Morning sunlight dappled across the gossamer fabric, making it glow, and Rapunzel stared at it blinking.

The room was very quiet.

Rapunzel breathed very lightly, wondering why she had cried out and why her heart was hammering with fear.

And...sage. She smelled sage soap and lavender. Her hands – her right hand was lying next to her face on the pillow and the sage and lavender scent was on her hands.

And my nightgown too, Rapunzel realized as she shifted in the bed, the downy coverlet and cotton sheets whispering against each other as she moved. She sat up, took her nightgown in both hands and inhaled the fragrance again.

Jasen, she remembered. His bedsheets were infused with the smell of sage soap and lavender. Jasen - for one wild irrational moment that thought mingled with Rapunzel's nightmare and she jumped out of bed, ran for the door, and flung it open.

The hall was bright with daylight and the door to the prince's room stood open. Sergeant Yates was standing at the threshold, clad in his black studded leather uniform, and when he saw Rapunzel he nodded at her with a smile.

"Miss," he said, then coughed and backed up a few steps, covering his smile with one gloved hand.

"What's that?" Rapunzel heard from within the bedchamber, and a moment later Jasen appeared, wearing his black leathers and pulling his right riding glove on.

He glanced at Yates first, who nodded at Rapunzel, and then turned to look in her direction and his eyes met hers. Those beautiful sky-blue eyes, and he smiled and his whole face brightened. "Darling! I'm so glad you're u-"

With a gasp Rapunzel ran forward and threw her arms around her beloved's neck, gasping as she felt his embrace and only belatedly realizing she'd tripped and pushed him into the corridor wall.

"OOP!" Jasen blurted.

"Oh - " Rapunzel breathed, and hurriedly drew back, wiping her hair out of her eyes as she felt herself blush with embarrassment. "Oh – I'm so sorry - "

"What are you apologizing for?" Jasen laughed as he kept his arms around her waist. "Best wake-up kiss I've had in ages!"

Rapunzel took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and looking up into those eyes still surrounded by scars blurted, "I was dreaming – or something – I thought you were dead - "

Jasen winced a bit in confusion, then shook his head and smiled again. "Well, if I was, you just brought me back, so to speak! In fact, guess what, there are parts of me that are feeling pretty damn perky right - "

Yates cleared his throat very loudly.

"Ergh," Jasen grimaced and turned toward his commanding officer.

Yates didn't look offended. Instead he smiled benignly and said, "I'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, You Highness."

Jasen nodded understanding. "I'll be right there. Two minutes."

Yates bowed slightly, turned, and headed for the stairs without another word.

As soon as he was gone Rapunzel looked at her prince and opened her mouth to say – something, anything, she knew she'd behaved very strangely. But words wouldn't come when her beloved's face was that close and she could smell the sage soap on him, now mingling with mint. Nothing she thought of made any sense, and it didn't matter anyway because a moment later they both burst out laughing and he kissed her.

The kiss felt wonderful, like a burst of sunlight after the longest night, and his embrace was warm and real, real enough to push every shred of nightmare fear right out of Rapunzel's soul. His kiss left her dizzy, and it was a kiss that could have gone on much longer except after a few moments he made a noise like he'd just remembered something and very gently pulled away.

"Dearest, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed as he took both of her hands in his. "I could stay here all day but I have to go with Yates to the cavalry yard, he wants to give a full report on the condition of the stables and the troops and – well – it's my job."

The words were said with such gentle sincerity that Rapunzel did her best to hide her disappointment. "Maybe I can come too?"

"No, sorry, my darling!" Jasen shook his head but never stopped smiling. "For one thing, it's very dirty down there and for another – well, you'd be too much of a distraction for me!"

Rapunzel blushed at those words and quickly gave Jasen another kiss.

"But!" Jasen continued as soon as they parted. "I've already arranged to have your breakfast served on the balcony outside your bedchamber, the view is lovely and by the time you've eaten and washed and dressed I'll be back and I'll take you down to the beach. Kendil's already down there, has been all morning."

Rapunzel felt herself gleam with joy. "The beach? Oh, finally! I've seen drawings in books but I've never see one up close. I'm sure it's beautiful."

"Beautiful but this time of the year, a little too chilly for that nightgown!" Jasen grinned and raised Rapunzel's hands to his lips, giving them a quick kiss. "Now I really do have to go. And you must be starving, so go - " He paused, glanced down at Rapunzel's hands. "Huh. That's funny."

Rapunzel tilted her head. "What?"

"Your hands smell like sage and lavender." Jasen paused again, then very slowly lifted his eyes to meet Rapunzel's and leaned forward until their foreheads were almost touching. "Just like my bedsheets this morning smelled like rosewater. As if you'd been lying beside me..."

Rapunzel giggled and leaned into him, relishing his nearness. "Thank Durwin, it was his idea."

"Was it? I'll make him a nobleman if he lets you do that when I'm awake - "

"AHEM!" Came a very loud voice from the great hall below.

Rapunzel jumped back and hastily composed herself while Jasen straightened and quickly adjusted his leather doublet. Both of them were blushing, and neither was ashamed of it.

"I'll see you when you get back," Rapunzel murmuered, and slowly brushed her hair out of her eyes.

Jasen shook his head at her and smiled, his blue eyes dancing.

"Distraction," he whispered, and giving her one more quick kiss turned and hurried toward the stairs.

Rapunzel watched him go, appreciating the view, and turned back toward her bedchamber. As she did so she heard Nadine's voice on the stairway greeting the prince, and looked over her shoulder to see the dressmaker ascending the last step into the hallway, carrying a cloth bundle in her hands and followed by a page carrying a large tray with a silver cover.

"Good morning, miss!" Nadine called cheerily, her cheeks pink from exertion. "You must be freezing standing out here in the hallway with nothing on but your nightdress. Come on, let's get you back into your bedchamber and properly clothed, and then you'll have breakfast on the rose balcony. Come on!"

By the time Nadine had gotten all of those words out she was almost to the bedchamber door, and Rapunzel obediently followed, curious now as to what mornings in the summer palace actually entailed.

What she learned – in short order – was that they were very different from mornings at the king's palace.

For one thing, despite what Nadine had said the hallway was not nearly as cold as the dark stone corridors of the palace. That place always seemed to be freezing, even when it was warm outside, and ten large fireplaces kept blazing all day and night seemed to make little difference.

Rapunzel remembered well her bedchamber at the palace too. It was nothing like the room Nadine was leading her through now to the bath – not open and airy at all, and there were certainly no tall stained-glass windows that let in the morning light! The bedchamber at the king's palace was made of the same cold, dark stone the other rooms were, and the heavy old tapestries that hung on the walls did nothing to brighten or warm the room one bit.

And the single slit of a window did not help either, set so high on the wall it might as well have not been there at all. The bed was soft enough, and the sheets and covers were warm if a bit overly ornate, all gold thread and velvet, as if the linens were striving to make up for the walls' shortcomings. Still, the only word that could adequately describe mornings at the king's palace was gloomy.

That word, Rapunzel quickly learned, could never be applied to the palace by the sea. The morning sun shone so brightly through the large windows of her bedchamber that it almost felt as if she was outside. The light warmed the floor and the walls, giving the very air the feeling of springtime, and as Nadine poured Rapunzel's bath and helped her into the copper tub she kept up a steady stream of friendly chatter so that Rapunzel never felt as if she was alone.

As soon as Rapunzel was settled in the tub, mountains of frothy bubbles surrounding her, she picked up the bar of lemon-scented soap floating in the water and looked up. "Nadine?"

"Yes, dear?" the older woman replied as she folded Rapunzel's nightdress, so quickly and expertly the fabric floated in the air as she moved it.

Rapunzel looked down, then up again. "I talked to Durwin last night - "

"Oh, yes, he told me," Nadine chirped, swiftly turning and moving out of the bathing-room, her voice echoing off the walls as she went into the bedchamber. "Said you had a lovely chat."

"We did," Rapunzel agreed, slowly moving the soap in her hands and gazing at the bubbles in the bathwater. The sun from nearby window was glinting off them, creating hundreds of tiny rainbows. I'm bathing in rainbows, she thought. "The two of you are married?"

"Yes, miss, many years now," Nadine replied, reappearing with two large fluffy white towels which she set down on the chair beside the tub. "You met Benjamin, our son, too, lovely boy if a bit of a scamp just like his father."

Rapunzel moved to the edge of the tub, draping her elbows over the side. "How did you meet?"

Nadine smiled and patted the towels. "I'll tell you all about it, dear, after I've gotten your clothes laid out and breakfast set up. Now don't dawdle in that tub, you'll come out looking like one of the cook's prune cakes and I don't know what the prince will think of me!" She turned toward the door.

"Did you ever think you would lose him?"

Nadine stopped at the doorway, turned back with a surprised look on her face. She blinked a few times, then walked to the chair beside the tub and sat down, laying a sympathetic hand on Rapunzel's arm. "Oh, miss! Why ever would you ask a question like that?"

Rapunzel stared at Nadine for a moment, then looked down, angry at herself for just blurting out such a thing. Why had she asked that question? She couldn't think of an answer, not one that would make sense to Nadine, anyway.

Why? Because I've never done any of this before. Because all my life has been just one thing: one home, one companion, one window. I never dared to want more, and when I did my mother tried to hurt him, and she would have been glad if he died. I hate that my prince could have died because of me, and I had this dream that the birds all died and it was my fault. My fault because my mother came here and found them and she was jealous. I love my prince, I love my life and I don't want to lose it but I'm not strong like Jasen's mother, I'm a weak frightened child with no one to guide me. I'm so afraid I'm going to do the wrong thing, that he's going to need me and I'll be too scared to fight and I won't be able to do anything but stand there and watch my mother take him away.

I don't want him to go away! Someone must have faced this before and can help me. Jasen's mother knew what to but I can't talk to her. King Daenas is kind but he's so far away. Durwin loves you, I can tell that he does, and I asked that question because I need to know – something. Anything! I've never felt helpless before and I hate it. Hate it -

All these things Rapunzel thought, faster than the blink of an eye, but she kept her gaze on the shimmering bubbles in the tub so Nadine wouldn't read her expression and chide her foolishness. She knew the seamstress was waiting for an answer, however, because that warm pudgy hand was still on her arm. At length she shrugged and muttered, "I – I was just - "

Nadine patted her arm, then sat up in the chair and when Rapunzel looked up, she was smiling warmly. "Never mind, dear, I understand. I know Durwin told you about Queen Nimiane, and I agree it's quite a story, and not altogether a happy one. I was just a young girl living in the town when it happened, I went to the palace with everyone else and like everyone else was heartbroken when I returned and found out the queen was dead. It can take your breath away, how fast something like that can happen, and when you find someone like my Durwin, or your prince, well, yes, you think about losing that a lot. Even the chance of it can keep you awake at night."

Rapunzel sat back in the tub, gazing up at Nadine with wide eyes. "Did it ever happen?"

Nadine lifted her eyes to the doorway, and the palace beyond, and sighed. "Once or twice. He's got the physician's calling you see, windstorms or shipwrecks or dragons, he's always got to go out and see if anyone's hurt. When the giant was loose he was gone for almost two days, just had to find out if anyone had been crushed or trapped somewhere, never mind I was sitting here going crazy worrying for him."

Rapunzel shuddered. "That must have been awful for you. Why didn't you tell him not to go?"

Nadine shook her head and smiled. "And put an iron gate of selfishness between us? No, miss, I did that a few times when we were first married and hated the heartache it caused. When something higher than you is calling to your love, you learn to step back and bow to it. And feel lucky that you're in his circle at all."

Rapunzel nodded, amazed that those words made sense. Her mother never would have said those words. She lifted one hand ran her fingers through her hair, dampening the locks. "My prince is like that. We were trapped in a dovecote and the birds wanted out, he climbed all the way to the top to help them and it was like watching the sun climb over a hill. He's so brave but at the same time he scares me to death!"

Nadine laughed and stood. "Yes, well, those are two phrases that Prince Jasen's had linked together his whole life – 'climb' and 'scared to death'! But he has his mother's adventurous spirit for sure. It's a special spark, but I'm afraid I can't tell you how not to fear for him. The burn goes with the sun, I'm afraid."

Rapunzel turned the soap in her hands, contemplated those words. Nodded. "You're right. It does."

There was a pause then and there was no sound except the water dripping from Rapunzel's hands, making tiny silvery noises and they fell into the water; and, somewhere far away, she could hear birds singing.

Then Nadine laughed again and waved her hands. "Well, now, it's been a pleasant conversation but your breakfast is getting cold! Wash up, dear, and then I'll show you all the wonderful new clothes I sewed up for you last night. You've never had a wardrobe like this, and I promise once you set foot outside the gates you'll be the envy of the whole kingdom! Now if you'll excuse me I'll go see if that silly page has remembered how to set a proper table!"

With those words Nadine bustled out of the room, leaving Rapunzel alone in the washroom. She looked down at the sunlit bubbles clustering around her knees and paused, gazing at the tiny rainbows glinting in the light. After a few moments she reached out her right hand and scooped up a handful, watching the bubbles run down her hand and arm and into the water.

She thought of the fear, and the birds, and the water-dagger King Daenas had given her. When she went to sleep the night before, her arms wrapped around her prince, she had hoped to never need the sort of courage she wasn't sure she possessed.

That hope was still there, yet – yet the terror she had felt when she thought her mother had killed all the birds was real, real and sharp as thorns. Was it just a bad dream? Was she being foolish? She tried to think of the rest of the day, of going to see a beach for the first time and watching the sun set there in her prince's arms, and realized there was something false about that vision. Something deceptive.

Something that told her to be wary.

The sun shimmered off the soap bubbles on Rapunzel's hand, turning them into a handful of rainbows. Rapunzel gazed at the image for a moment, then quickly poured the bubbles back into the water where they broke, and vanished into nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

“Head. Flank. Shoulder. Again.”

 

The sound of ringing sword blades filled the wide dirt yard that made up the parade area of the sea-kingdom's cavalry stables. The sunlit high-walled arena, lined on one side by the large stone barn that served as the horses' living quarters, was empty now except for two people: Prince Jasen and Captain Yates. Both had stripped off their doublets and shirts, taken up fencing swords and now stood facing each other, the cool sea breeze trying but failing to lessen the redness of exertion in their cheeks, and dry the sweat that clung to their brows and hair.

 

Clang! Clang! Yates' sword whistled through the air as he aimed for different areas of the prince's body. Jasen turned his blade against the attack, the sun blurring on the blade as he moved.

 

“Groin – stomach – head reverse- “ Yates recited, finally swinging his sword in a broad arc from the top of his own crown toward Jasen's head. The prince twisted his wrist and blocked the move by bringing his own sword up and parallel to the ground, the swords ringing as they crossed right in front of his face.

 

Yates paused, relaxed, and nodded with approval as he stepped back. “Very good, Your Highness. I'm glad to see that some of my training has held in your brain, and hasn't been pushed out by a sweet smile and dimples.”

 

Jasen laughed and took a deep breath, shaking the damp hair out of his eyes and rounding his shoulders. “No, it's stuck in there. I think I'll be muttering it in my sleep when I'm ninety!”

 

“Hm!” Yates turned his sword over in his hand and worked it into his hip-scabbard. “I'm impressed, but you still haven't remembered everything. I've told you before, don't strike the edge of your opponent's sword with the flat of your blade. You'll break your own weapon right in two.”

 

“Oh!” Jasen sighed, lifting his sword and turning it, as if noticing it was flat for the first time. “Right. Right.”

 

A table had been set up in the shade nearby with ceramic pitchers of water and bowls of fruit covered in cheesecloth to keep away the flies. Yates walked toward the table, pulling off his leather gloves as he went.

 

“And in the attacks, you're still extending your arm all the way when aiming for your opponent's midsection,” Yates continued as he removed one glove and began to work on the other. “Remember if you do that, you not only throw yourself off-balance but you make it too easy for your opponent to push your blade away and go for the kill. Keep your elbow bent a little, and keep your balance centered.”

 

Jasen nodded thoughtfully as he followed, flexing his sword arm forward and back, testing Yates' words. Yates removed the cheesecloth from the bowl of fruit, and Jasen jabbed the apple on the top with the tip of his blade. The apple rolled backwards and fell out of the bowl onto the ground.

 

“Damn,” Jasen grumbled.

 

“That one's yours,” Yates commented, plucking an orange from the pile of remaining fruit. “Next lesson we'll work on your stabbing technique.”

 

“Forcing a royal prince to accept fruit that's touched the ground?” Jasen asked in mock incredulity as he walked around the table to fetch the apple. “The king would have you flogged for not showing the proper respect.”

 

“The king is not one who I would say appreciates the benefits of respect earned rather than blindly given,” Yates replied wryly as he dug his fingernails into the skin of the orange and strode towards the trunk of the tree. “But he might change his mind if I can teach you to properly stab with that sword.”

 

Jasen smiled as he scooped up the apple and walked to where Yates was sitting down against the tree's base, resting his back against the trunk. The prince settled himself alongside, turned the apple over in his hands a few times, and said nothing for a few minutes.

 

During that silence Yates peeled the orange, ate part of it, and let his gaze wander across the grassy yard, to the brick cavalry plaza, and finally to the stone barn beyond. The stable boys were now hauling hay and water into the barns, and a few of the cavalry officers were milling about the doors or walking in and out, exercising their horses. Though the barn was far away, the sound of horses whinnying and the stable boys calling to each other carried faintly through the cool morning air, mixed with the familiar earthy smells of manure and chaff.

 

Yates glanced over at the prince and saw that he was still turning the apple over in his hands but not eating it, instead only gazing at it with a pensive look in his blue eyes.

 

Yates frowned at this, then cleared his throat. “I hope Your Highness approved of the cavalry review this morning.”

 

Nothing. Not even a blink.

 

Yates cleared his throat again, louder, and leaning toward the prince raised his voice. “Your Highness?”

 

Jasen started and glanced up, his expression surprised as if he'd forgotten where he was. “Sorry. What?”

 

Yates smiled a little and leaned back. “I apologize. I merely wished to know if you approved of the cavalry review this morning.”

 

“Oh!” Jasen blinked and turned his eyes toward the distant barn “Oh, yes, it was – you've kept the men in top shape, I couldn't be more pleased. Really.”

 

“The only men missing were the six that were sent on pre-dawn patrol,” Yates explained, still watching Jasen carefully. “They should be returning soon, you can inspect them then if you wish.”

 

“Oh – I'm sure that won't be necessary, I'm sure they're...” Jasen looked down at the apple and sniffed, then rubbed his nose. “I'm sure they're fine.”

 

Yates' frown went deeper and he leaned over again, this time pitching his voice low even though no one else was around. “Your Highness, are you all right?”

 

Jasen paused, took a deep breath and once again lifted his eyes toward the distant barn. “Just about the whole company was here today, weren't they?”

 

Puzzled, Yates nodded. “Except for the patrol, yes.”

 

“Well, that's funny, because I thought...” Jasen took another deep breath. “I thought by now father would have called some of them to the palace to escort the crown prince and his bride to their honeymoon cottage.”

 

Yates straightened up where he sat. “Your Highness - “

 

“I mean, I was there, the wedding was interrupted, we never even made it to the reception,” Jasen continued, and now he was talking very fast. “There's always an escort and the king doesn't use his own troops because they're for guarding him and if the princess was killed by the giant we'd know by now so just how long were you all going to wait before telling me that my brother _isn't married anymore?_ ”

 

Both men were sitting fully upright now, and Yates found himself staring into a pair of very angry light blue eyes. The world stayed like that for a moment, electric and still, like summer air just before a lightning strike.

 

Then Yates inhaled very slowly, exhaled and stared evenly at the young man before him whose face was flushed with emotion and who was himself taking deep huffing breaths, not nearly as calmly.

 

Yates lifted one hand, palm forward to silently urge calm, and quietly said, “Your Highness, we did not know ourselves until late yesterday, after you arrived. I would not have known I had not been with the steward when it was delivered.”

 

“So not telling me was _his_ idea?” Jasen snapped, his eyes blazing.

 

Yates shook his head. “It was discussed among us, the steward, myself, and Durwin, and decided you would be told after you were rested and more healed. It was obvious you'd been through a trial and no one wanted to make it worse.”

 

“So Kendil doesn't know?” Jasen asked, shaking his head. “Nadine?”

 

“Kendil hasn't asked or talked about anything but your welfare since you returned,” Yates answered, keeping his eyes locked on Jasen to reinforce his words. “He didn't inquire about the letter or the princess so my thinking is that's not a priority to him right now. You are. And Nadine doesn't know unless Durwin told her.”

 

Jasen took one more deep breath and turned his eyes to the grassy fields that fronted the stables, separating them from the nearby woods. “Rapunzel knows.”

 

Yates studied Jasen closely, took note of the sudden look of worry on the young prince's face. “Your Highness - “

 

“She had nightmares,” Jasen interrupted, his words once more spilling out in a jumble, and he shook his head again, so much that his blond hair fell into his eyes, making him wince as the sweat stung his eyes. “Last night, she told me so. Happy people don't have nightmares, scared people have nightmares. I never did until mother died and I went to live at the palace. She's scared, because she knows we can't get married until Maxim does.”

 

“Scared?” Yates sat back a little and shrugged. “Of what? The summer palace is secure, the giant is dead. She has nothing to fear.”

 

“Yes, she does,” Jasen replied, and jumping up from the grass began to pace back and forth, gripping the apple in one hand and then the other as he talked. “She does, and I promised her I'd protect her from it. Those thorns, they came out of nowhere, as big as the ones that cut me, bigger! We were trapped in that dovecote, a wall of thorns covering the door my sword could never get through and when Rapunzel saw them she – she - “

 

Jasen suddenly stopped pacing and closed his eyes, as if forcing himself to not remember something too horrible to contemplate. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked at Yates with stern, serious eyes.

 

“She was so scared,” Jasen said quietly. “Whatever magic created those thorns frightened her, and I gave her my word that she never has to be afraid. _Ever._ So, Yates? It is my duty and my honor to make sure she never has nightmares again.”

 

These words were said with such conviction that Yates simply stared upward at the prince, at a loss for speech. Finally he said, very slowly, “Is that why you asked me to resume your sword fighting lessons today?”

 

Jasen stared back at the cavalry commander for a very long moment, unblinking, then finally turned away.

 

“I've got to be ready,” he said quietly, lifting his gaze and looking somewhere beyond the barn, beyond the cavalry yard, toward the nearby ocean neither of them could see but they could hear it, whispering and rumbling like a constant thunderstorm in the clear morning air. “I don't want to, it's not...I just want to take her somewhere where she never has to worry about evil magic hurting her ever again, but if I can't do that I'm going to fight it wherever it is. I promised her.”

 

Yates sighed and got to his feet. “That's very noble of you, Your Highness, but at the end of the day you do realize that battling magic isn't a job for a prince but for his soldiers. If any evil magic does come calling you must let me do my job and keep you and your mistress safe.”

 

“But you can't do that,” Jasen retorted, shaking his head as he looked at Yates over his shoulder. “If we're not wed Rapunzel's nobody to the king, he'll have her sent away. And he won't let me marry her if Maxim isn't married first. You know how he is, so stuck on protocol and appearances.”

 

“Yes, Your Highness, you certainly don't have to tell me that,” Yates replied with a slight smile as he tossed the orange rind he still held to the ground. “But the king doesn't know Rapunzel is here, and with the rebuilding of the kingdom after the giant's attack I'm certain that even if he knew he has more pressing matters to attend to. Your young lady has already charmed me, and Durwin, and half the court, so she has many shields to protect her until this matter is settled.”

 

Jasen turned his eyes once more toward the sea, took in a breath of salt air and then slowly let it out again. “You didn't see those thorns. If anything comes to hurt her nobody's going to be able to stop it but me. And I'll do it, Yates. You just try and stop me.”

 

“Hm!”

 

Yates' exclamation was odd, part surprise and part something else. Jasen turned around to see his commanding officer regarding him with an odd, admiring expression. “What is it?”

 

“Nothing,” Yates smiled, his dark eyes gleaming. “You are just completely your mother's son, is all. With that Symdalin blood in your veins, I think Rapunzel is quite safe, princess or maid.”

 

Jasen cocked a smile. “So it's on with the lessons?”

 

Yates nodded and taking his gloves out of his belt began to pull them back on. “Whenever Your Highness is ready.”

 

The sound of clattering hooves echoed across the yard, and as he went to fetch his sword Jasen glanced up to see four cavalry officers riding slowly across the brick expanse, their black and silver livery sparking in the morning sun. They passed the prince, bowed in the saddle, and continued on.

 

“Well, that's the next patrol is on its way,” Yates remarked, squinting at the horsemen as he pushed his right hand into his glove. “The early morning riders should be arriving any minute, Your Highness, if you'd like to inspect them before we get back to your practice.“

 

“Sure,” Jasen shrugged, walking over to where his sword lay propped against the tree. “You know, I was hoping I was wrong about Maxim and his bride. Not just because of Rapunzel, but – being in love is _really great_. I'd hate to think Maxim's missing out on that. He was so determined to find that girl.”

 

“Yes, well,” Yates shrugged diplomatically as he tugged the glove tighter onto his hand. “It may be that we haven't heard the last of that - “

 

Yates' words were broken off as the clatter of the horses' hooves suddenly turned faster, sharper, and he looked up to see that they were no riding at an easy pace across the yard but cantering quickly, urgently.

 

Jasen saw this too, and frowning stepped out of the shade of the tree into the sunlight, narrowing his eyes to the far edge of the yard where the horsemen were heading. “Yates? What's that about?”

 

“I don't know,” Yates responded, following the prince and looking at his men in concern. “Those officers aren't showoffs, I don't know why - “

 

“Look!”

 

From out of the woods at the edge of the yard the returning cavalry patrol emerged, the sunlight mixing with the dark green of the leaves as it dappled across their forms. Due to their angle of approach the other cavalrymen had seen them first, and as they advanced into the sunlight Jasen and Yates saw why the others were hurrying.

 

“Damn,” Yates muttered in shock. Then he grabbed the pitcher of water from the table and ran toward his men.

 

Blood. That was the first thing Jasen saw, three cavalrymen riding their limping steeds into the yard, their uniforms and bodies scratched and torn and covered with bright shining blood. The third officer was leading a horse by the bridle, its mane clotted and its dappled gray hide streaked with brown and red. The saddle was askew and the rider, gone.

 

The other patrol had dismounted now and was crowding around the men, helping them from their saddles, settling them on the ground. Yates had thought to grab some cloth napkins from the table and was wetting them now, passing them to the others to wash wounds and staunch the bleeding.

 

Jasen reached up to help bring the third cavalryman down from his saddle, a brown-haired young man whose face and head were dripping blood. He was swaying in the saddle, yet when his eyes fell on who was holding out hands to catch him he struggled to sit upright and his eyes widened. “Your Highness - “

 

“Yeah, some other time maybe,” Jasen answered with a shake of his head as he reached out his hands, “Come on, standing on ceremony's no good when you're - “

 

Those words were cut off when the lad fainted dead away and he fell heavily downward, pitching right into Jasen's waiting arms. The prince caught him with an “Oof!” and with another officer's help eased the young man to the ground.

 

A wet cloth appeared and Jasen took it, mopping the blood away from the young man's face as Yates said, “What happened? Barret?”

 

“It was wolves,” came the answer, and Jasen glanced up to see a bearded officer sitting not far away, bloody and battered but giving water to his black-haired companion, who was hiked up on his elbows, his uniform in tatters and vivid red marks starkly visible beneath the tears. “Big ones, came at us while we were patrolling the edge of the great swamp. Six at least.”

 

“Wolves!” Yates exclaimed, and Jasen heard the doubt in his voice. “In the great swamp? What were they doing there, there's nothing for them to eat there but snakes.”

 

“And why would they attack you?” came the voice of one of the uninjured officers, who Jasen listened to as he blotted the blood from the unconscious cavalryman's brow. “Only wolves I ever met hang at the edge of the woods by the village and try to trick foolish people into getting themselves eaten. Chased off my fair share but never saw one just lunge out and grab you - “

 

“Well, obviously these did,” Yates snapped, anger and worry mixing evenly in his voice as he met Barret's eyes. “Where's Stevens?”

 

Now the black-haired man spoke, shaking his head and looking up at Yates with widened eyes. “They got him first. Right off the saddle, ripped his throat out. We had to leave him, horses bolted and then it was all we could do to get back here in one piece.“

 

“There's something wicked out there,” Barret said ominously as he gave the black-haired officer more water. “The midnight patrol said they was out by the old dovecote and saw a light bobbin' out there. They tried to follow it and their horse got spooked, wouldn't go no farther.”

 

Yates shook his head, looked at the injured men at his feet and then up at the horses, their cuts and gashes now being tended to by the stable boys. “This just doesn't make sense. The gray wolves that live in the woods don't act like this. I've never in all my years seen them act this vicious.”

 

“They wasn't the gray ones,” the black-haired officer insisted, his eyes going wider as he spoke. “They were bigger, twice as big, and they were red. Blood red.”

 

Jasen stood.

 

Yates stood just as quickly, a bloodied cloth still in his hand. “Your Highness - “

 

“Have Hector saddled,” Jasen said, his words clipped and fast as he looked into the woods. “Send word to the palace, get Durwin out here as fast - “

 

“Word's already been sent,” Yates said, laying a hand on Jasen's arm. “I saw the stable master running for his horse the moment these men arrived. Durwin will be here in two minutes, but Your Highness, listen to me - “

 

“No!” Jasen shook the arm off, glared at Yates for a hot second before his eye caught the other cavalrymen looking at them. He took a deep breath, walked ten paces away from the others, Yates right at his elbow.

 

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jasen cleared his throat and met Yates' gaze with his own, bright and unyielding. “This is magic, Yates, and you know it. Bad magic, the kind I was talking about two minutes ago. Something's out there and I'm not letting it get nearer to Rapunzel, not one inch. Saddle my horse.”

 

“Your Highness, with all respect,” Yates replied, his voice low. “I've been a cavalry officer and ridden these woods twice as long as you've been alive, and I've seen my share of hungry wolf packs. Vicious and dangerous, yes, but not necessarily magic and definitely not a task for you.”

 

“But - “

 

“No, Your Highness,” Yates repeated sternly, and lifted a finger to emphasize his point. “I admire your courage but there's protocol to be followed here, and I have a hundred men who will ride into those woods trained and ready to vanquish even the most vicious pack of wolves, no matter what color they are. But this kingdom only has one of you, and there's a young lady waiting for you to show her the ocean and everything she's never seen. Now. I'll go do my job, and you go do yours. Trust me when I say, you have the better end of the bargain.”

 

Jasen sighed, looked at the injured men, at the woods, back at Yates. Frustration and impatience battled with anger for dominance in his eyes, each gaining ground and losing it so his gaze wavered among all three. “But – damn it, Yates, Stevens - “

 

“We will find him,” Yates promised, patting Jasen on the shoulder. “We will hunt down the pack, slaughter it, and after we've buried Stevens with honor Nadine will make your Rapunzel a red wolf coat for the winter months. All right?”

 

Jasen stared at the woods, pursed his lips in thought. Turned his eyes in the other direction, toward the roaring sea. Finally nodded.

 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Yates said, his tone betraying his relief as he turned back toward his men. “Now if I may suggest, you should go wash and change your clothes, and I'll take care of things here. You have nothing to worry about.”

 

“I'll help you here until Durwin comes,” Jasen declared, following him. “And after you take care of this...I still want those sword fighting lessons, Yates.”

 

“And you will have them, Your Highness,” Yates replied, and together they went back to tending the wounded under the bright morning sky.

 

* * * * * *

 

Ormand rose late, performed his usual morning routine of washing and dressing in his work robes, and began the short journey from his bedchambers to the steward's study to eat his breakfast.

 

He never ate in the dining hall with the other court officials. They always wanted to chatter, and he found chatter endlessly annoying. Of course one could find out interesting things through castle gossip, but Ormand discovered early on that breakfast wasn't a good time to learn things because everyone was still waking up, or just wanted to talk about what had happened the day before, and he already knew all of that.

 

Dinner was another matter; Ormand always attended group dinners when there was one, and over the years he had come across a lot of useful information that way. The staff were relaxed, the wine flowed, and tongues were loosened in a way that never occurred in the morning hours.

 

In the evenings he could force himself to be social enough. But never in the morning; in the morning he dined alone.

 

So he walked with lowered head and determined stride through the warm sunlight that beamed through the tall windows of the great hall, never once looking up or noticing anything. He had too much on his mind.

 

Specifically, the witch, Morrine.

 

He had come back very late the night before, nearly two o'clock in the morning. It turned out that Morrine's house was very deep in the woods, much deeper than Ormand supposed, and he cursed himself the entire journey back that he had not thought to ask her before they started out, how far the journey actually was. Returning late invited suspicion, and he did not want suspicion now.

 

And it turned out to be such a plain house too, not grand or large as Ormand figured a powerful witch's house should be. Just a small wooden cottage with a thatched roof, maybe two or three rooms at most, and he was so concerned about getting back to the palace that he had his horse turned around as soon as Morrine put her hand on the latch to the front door. She didn't understand the trouble she might get him into, if he was late coming back and questions were asked.

 

Or maybe she did. Morrine was very smart and crafty – that much Ormand learned as they talked together in the woods, as he rode her back to her door.

 

Smart, because she seemed to know everything that was going on at the palace, even in the whole kingdom. She knew the crown prince no longer had a bride, and nobody knew that yet, it had not been officially announced. She told Ormand things about the girl Rapunzel that seemed too amazing to be true – that she was raised alone in a tall tower, that her hair was once very long and that her mother was “a ungrateful little fool with the brains of a bird who couldn't be trusted.”

 

Morrine's bitter words about Rapunzel's mother made Ormand wonder if they might be related. Then he decided that it was none of his business since the girl would be out of his life soon anyway, and he didn't care what happened to her as long as she was gone and he was able to kill the prince.

 

But that was another thing – Morrine said a few things about the sea dragon war, and Ormand thought that nobody knew about that. She talked about the queen – _the foreigner,_ Morrine called her, and after a few times Ormand realized who she was talking about.

 

“The king never should have married that foreigner,” Morrine complained as they walked through the moonlight trees, deeper and deeper into the dark woods. “She ruined everything, getting in the middle of the fight. Anyone else would have stayed out of the way, not her! Deserved what she got. Should have been worse...”

 

This was late in the journey and Morrine was walking and perhaps growing tired, Ormand reasoned, because no one outside the palace walls knew about how Queen Nimiane died, or that she had anything to do with the sea dragon war at all. The official story – the one the peasants knew – was that she went to watch them battle, slipped on the rocks and perished in the waves. Nobody knew she did any fighting, or the real manner of her death.

 

But Morrine knew, or seemed to. It was more than a little troubling.

 

But it had been late, Ormand reasoned as he strode toward his study and stared at the floor tiles gleaming too brightly in the morning sun as he walked over them. It had been late, Morrine had been babbling, but as they parted ways at her simple wooden door she promised that in return for Rapunzel, Ormand would get what he wanted and when the time was right, drive a sword through Prince Jasen's heart and take power.

 

Then they parted ways, and Ormand rode like the wind to get back to the palace before too many guards wondered where he had gone. And his ruse had worked – the evening was a productive success. His plans had been laid, he had a powerful ally, and when all was prepared he would take the throne that should have been his years ago. Ormand smiled at the thought, and congratulated himself that he had been able to pull off such a daring midnight ride and not a single person had been the -

 

“Good morning, Ormand. You were out late last night.”

 

Ormand stopped in his tracks, looked up. Damn it! There, striding down the great staircase as if he owned it, was Durwin, smiling down at Ormand in a way that made the steward want to grab him by his curly hair and throw him to the marble floor, _very_ hard.

 

But of course, he couldn't do that. Yet. Instead Ormand rolled his shoulders, put a civil smile on his face, and nodded his head in greeting. “Good morning, Durwin. Was I out late last night? I hadn't noticed the time - “

 

“Oh – well - “ Durwin shrugged and folded the medical pouch he was carrying under one arm, “I only noticed because I was in the medicinal garden restocking my vials before I retired. I heard a horse enter the stables and I recognize Sable's gait, you know I'm the one who treated him for that odd hitch he has in his rear right leg.”

 

“Hm,” Ormand nodded, and thought, _damn._ “Well, how is the prince doing? I imagine he and his lady have quite a headache, the wine steward told me they drank a whole bottle of the best wine in the house.”

 

“He's well enough,” Durwin replied, scratching his neck and he glanced back up the stairway. “He's up and out at the cavalry yard reviewing the troops with Yates, in fact. He's got some strange scratch wounds that were keeping him awake last night, I treated those and Kendil tells me he slept much better after that.” He sighed and shook his head. “I wish we had a magic-user here, those scratches were caused by magic and it's always easier to heal those sorts of things if you can get the poultice enchanted. Oh, well…”

 

Ormand frowned, squinting at the physician. “Caused by magic? What d'you mean?”

 

Durwin winced, glanced back up the stairs again and when he turned back to Ormand his voice was pitched much lower. “I'm sorry, Ormand, I can't break a confidence, but someone didn't want the prince and Rapunzel together and tried to hurt him using magic. I don't suppose you came across anyone in your travels last night who knows magic and could help me with a healing potion?”

 

“No,” Ormand said, a little too quick but fortunately Durwin didn't notice. “No, there was only me. Sorry.”

 

“Hm,” Durwin shrugged again and shifted the bag under his arm. “Well, I've got all my empty bottles back from the prince's room so I'll be in my room mixing up some potions if you need me for anything.”

 

“Not I,” Ormand promised, taking a few steps away, his mind spinning. “I'm just off to eat my breakfast and start working. Good day.”

 

“Good day,” Durwin replied, but the farewell tossed over his shoulder and he was already walking away from the staircase.

 

Ormand walked as quickly as he could in the other direction, Durwin's words ringing in his ears. He had known of course that Morrine was knew great magic -

 

“ _Quite a work of art those thorns, eh? Now there's power.”_

 

\- but what had he gotten himself into the middle of, that the prince was attacked by someone who knew thorn-twisting magic and they both were connected through that silly girl Rapunzel? Ormand was not a fool and he knew the only someone who would stand between a prince and his maid was a jealous mother, and if Rapunzel's mother knew magic, the kind of magic that could blind a prince -

 

Ormand suddenly felt very cold, and he wasn't sure why.

 

He had reached the hallway now, the hallway leading to his study, and as he did so Ormand heard a young voice echo through the still air, high-pitched and frantic. He turned to see a page running toward Durwin, flailing his arms and yelling for Durwin to come to the cavalry yard right away. The cavalry's stablemaster was right on the page's heels, his hair wild and his face pale.

 

Ormand's heart jumped – but no, Morrine had told him it would take time for her to put her plan in place and besides, she promised him that he would get to kill the prince. She wouldn't have killed him herself, not already. He took a step toward the physician, then two, then as the page continued to babble quickened his stride. He had to know what was going on -

 

“ - to my wife's sewing room, get as many lengths of her cotton batting as you can, then give it to the stable master. I'll get my bag and my draughts chest and meet you both back here in two minutes,” Durwin was saying to the page, and as Ormand came close Durwin turned and looked at him.

 

The physician looked so alarmed Ormand's jaw dropped open and he blurted out, “Is it the prince?” before he could stop himself.

 

He grimaced immediately and thought, you fool – but Durwin only shook his head and pulling the medicine bag from beneath his arm opened it and looked inside. “No, wolf attack on the dawn patrol, a bad one. Thank the heavens I have some medicine here, it will be a start – excuse me - “

 

Then Durwin gently pushed Ormand aside and walked past him, fast, down the hallway at the far side of the great hall where his rooms were. Ormand turned back to where the page had been but the boy was gone, running through the archway opposite to the seamstress room.

 

That left only the stablemaster, who was standing a few feet away wringing his felt hat in his hands and looking very pale. Ormand met his eyes and the man shook his head.

 

“It's an awful mess,” he said.

 

Ormand nodded absently, gave the man a weak smile and patted his arm. Then he turned and walked toward the hallway leading to his study, very quickly so the stable master couldn't read his expression. He felt numb.

 

A wolf attack. Was it really happening? Of course Ormand knew he could be wrong, wolves were not uncommon in the woods and they had attacked people before.

 

Not on horseback, usually, and the timing was certainly interesting, but – but really there was no way to be sure, and nothing to do about the situation except wait and see what happened.

 

Ormand didn't like that. He wanted to be the one leading, not the one sitting around and waiting for orders from someone else, and a woman at that. But there was no choice in the matter, so he sighed to himself in resignation and pushed open the door to his study.

 

Everything was, of course, just the same as it had been the night before when he left it. There was the stack of papers on his desk, requisitions and expense reports of the castle for him to go through and approve. There was the window, not a fancy stained-glass one like the hallway had but a simple large square with a pane of thick warped glass set into it, hinged at one side so a little air could go through. The window was closed now, but the morning sun was strong and Ormand frowned at how stuffy it felt in there. He strode to the window and pushed it open.

 

Then he turned back to his desk, his eyes going over the various piles, wondering what to take care of first. He finally settled on the artillery accounts – it was the shortest stack – and walked to his chair reached for the papers with an outstretched hand.

 

**Whump!**

 

Ormand jumped back, startled, and realized only after a few seconds of panic that something large and gray had fallen onto his desk, scattering the papers. He blinked again and muttered, “Damn.”

 

It was the dead bat from the rafters.

 

“Damn it all,” Ormand cursed again, because he hated vermin, especially dead vermin, and this bat looked very dead. Not decomposed, oddly, but very still and tightly wadded into itself, as if it had dried where it got stuck.

 

Thing is probably crawling with maggots, Ormand thought in disgust. Ormand turned toward the door. “Boy!”

 

A pause, when there should have been the sound of swift light footsteps running down the corridor. Nothing. Ormand shouted again, louder. “BOY!”

 

There were the footsteps now, then the page appeared, carrying a large bundle of white cotton batting in his arms. “Yes, sir?”

 

Ormand pointed at the bat. “I told you to have this removed last night! Why is it still here?”

 

The page went pale, which  pleased Ormand because he liked knowing he could intimidate people, and he shook his head. “Sorry, sir. I'll go tell the groundskeeper right away.”

 

“Now!” Ormand barked.

 

“Yes, sir,” the page squeaked, and ran away.

 

Ormand sighed and stared after the boy, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get some respect around here,” he muttered, and looked down at the desk.

 

The bat was sitting up, and looking calmly back at him. It blinked its tiny black eyes.

 

“Shit!” Ormand blurted, and recoiled from the desk, behind the chair. The bat blinked again, and he picked up the only weapon at hand, which was a large candlestick sitting on the shelf behind him.

 

The bat blinked once more, and lowered its wings.

 

“Oh, don't be so dramatic,” the bat said, “You'll never be a good ruler if you don't take command of your nerves.”

 

It took Ormand a full ten seconds to process what had just happened. Once he did, though, it amazed him how reasonable his conclusion was. “Morrine?”

 

The bat flexed its wings. “Close the door.”

 

Feeling suddenly numb and perplexed, Ormand did so, and very quickly. As soon as the door was shut he turned around and glanced up at the ceiling. “ That wasn't a dead bat stuck in the rafters all this time? It was you?”

 

“One can learn a lot of interesting things being inconspicuous,” Morrine answered, and shifted her tiny bat feet on the map of the kingdom that served as an ink blotter on Ormand's desk. “But no, you really did have a dead bat stuck up there once. Weeks ago.”

 

“Well, what happened to - “

 

“I ate it.”

 

Ormand stared at Morrine, and decided to change the subject. “What are you doing here? I told you I'd bring you the girl. You've put me at a terrible risk,  not staying where you were .”

 

“I'll come and go as I please,” Morrine answered, flexing her wings once again. “I merely came to tell you, the plan is in motion. Keep a watchful eye but stay out of the way until you're needed.”

 

“And when will that be?” Ormand asked.

 

“If all goes as planned, dawn tomorrow,” Morrine replied, looking down at the map.

 

“Tomorrow! Why not today?”

 

“Don't use that tone with me,” Morrine warned, looking up sharply, her fangs bared. “Everything needs to be in place, so nothing looks suspicious. We need time for the letter you wrote to the king about Rapunzel to be answered and delivered here. He will dismiss her, and you will have royal permission to remove her.”

 

“How did you know about that - “ Ormand stopped, looked up at the ceiling. Right over his desk. “Oh.”

 

“As I was saying,” Morrine continued, turning once again to the map. “Do you remember where my house is?”

 

“Of course I do,” Ormand huffed, crossing his arms. “I'm not a simpleton!”

 

“That is a matter of opinion,” Morrine pointed one bat wing at the map. “Once things are in motion, bring Rapunzel to me. I will arrange for what you want to be waiting for you in the mossy gorge you will pass when returning to the castle. The one I showed you.”

 

“By dawn tomorrow?” Ormand repeated.

 

Morrine – or rather, the bat – looked up. “Dawn tomorrow.”

 

Ormand took a deep breath. Everything he wanted, by dawn tomorrow! It hardly seemed possible -

 

**knock knock!**

 

Morrine flew up from the desk, darting toward the opening window and lighting on the sill.

 

Ormand watched her, then turned his head toward the door. “Yes?” he asked over his shoulder.

 

“Groundskeeper!” came from the other side.

 

Ormand looked at Morrine, who was edging toward the open window.

 

“Dawn tomorrow,” she repeated, and flew into the morning air.

 

As soon as she was gone, Ormand walked toward the window and took ahold of the latch. As he did so he glanced toward the expanse of green meadow and woods that his window overlooked. Morrine's tiny bat form was speeding toward those dark trees, and underneath her shadow Ormand saw a group of riders: Durwin, the stable master, and four  guards , racing toward the cavalry stables with all speed.

 

At that moment the door opened, and Ormand turned toward the sound, snapping the window shut as he did so. The groundskeeper stood there, a dirt-stained old man in plain clothes, who bowed to Ormand. “You got a vermin in here, sir?”

 

“Not anymore!” Ormand scowled, adjusting his robes in indignation. “I tossed it out the window myself. It's been lodged in the rafters of my study for weeks!”

 

The groundskeeper looked up, his craggy old face clearly perplexed. “Sorry sir. Didn't know.”

 

“Well, the next time your ignorance will cost you your thumbs!” Ormand waved his hand. “You're dismissed.”

 

“Yes, sir,” the groundskeeper bowed again and backed out, cowed.

 

As soon as he was gone, Ormand turned and opened the window again, peering out toward the woods.

 

Morrine was long gone, of course, and now the last shadows of Durwin and the guards were just disappearing into the trees.  Disappearing, devoured, as if they never existed. As if the woods had destroyed them already, leaving only him.

 

“Dawn tomorrow,” he muttered to himself, and wondered that the prospect left him breathless. He had only to wait. He turned toward his desk to begin the morning work, the stable master's words echoing in his mind.

 

_ It _ _ 's an awful mess _ _.  _ That's what the stable master  had  said.  And i t was awful,  Ormand knew  that .  For everyone except him.

 

But it was not as bad as it was going to get.

 

Ormand smiled at that thought, sat down at his desk, and got to work.


	11. Chapter 11

"How are your eggs, miss? Anything too cold? Just let me know and I'll get the cook to send up a new plate right away."

Rapunzel had finished her bath and was now seated at the wrought-iron breakfast table on the Rose balcony, clad in the simple light summer dress Nadine had laid out for her and her short hair brushed and drying in the warm summer sun. She smiled at the dressmaker, who was hovering over her table like a worried hen, and shook her head as she finished chewing her breakfast and swallowed. "No, everything's perfect. Thank you!"

Nadine nodded, although her expression didn't seem too sure, and she turned away from the table to fuss over her nearby basket of mending, leaving Rapunzel to return her attention to the delightful morning sunshine, and the glory of breakfast on the rose balcony.

It really was a perfect breakfast, Rapunzel mused as she pushed her scrambled eggs into a tidy pile that was more easily heaped onto the silver fork she held. Really, the best breakfast and the best morning she'd spent in a very long time.

She had never eaten breakfast outside before. Sometimes – when the air was warm and the sun was shining – her mother would bring berries or warm rolls from town and Rapunzel would sit by her tower window to eat them. A few times, in the early morning hours, she would actually sit on the ledge and drink tea while watching the sun come up, because she loved the fresh bright feeling of the breeze on her face, carrying with it the smell of dew and long grass.

That was as close as Rapunzel ever got to eating outdoors, because at the king's palace the dining hall was one large enclosed stone room. It barely got sunshine through the tiny windows, let alone fresh air. There was a terrace; but it had nowhere to sit, and Rapunzel took one look at it and knew it was not used for enjoyment, only for running troops across in defense. Its sparseness and utilitarian nature matched the rest of the king's palace; there was not a shred of joy to be had there.

But what a difference the rose balcony was! Rapunzel scooped up the last of the eggs and glanced around herself again, drinking in the sheer beauty of her surroundings.

"Miss Nadine?"

Rapunzel glanced toward the open doors that led into her chamber at the same time that Nadine looked up also and said, "Out on the balcony, boy!"

There was a pause, and Rapunzel could just make out the young page standing in the doorway that led from her chamber to the hallway outside. He paused. "Message for you from the doctor."

"Oh," Nadine sighed and got up, smiling at Rapunzel apologetically. "Pardon me, miss, it must be a love note or the boy wouldn't be so shy about reading it to me in front of you! I'll be right back."

With that the dressmaker bustled inside, and Rapunzel took up another forkful of eggs and resumed her contemplation of the balcony surrounding her.

Roses probably grew there once, in the stone flower basins that jutted from the walls and lined the wide curved terrace, but there were other flowers in them now. Purple and blue and lavender colored flowers that Rapunzel didn't recognize, all heaped in large cones of tiny blooms that drooped over the sides of the basins, releasing their fragrance into the air.

Probably they were easier to keep than roses, Rapunzel decided as her eyes wandered over the scene. She remembered her mother muttering often about the roses that grew around her tower, how often they died and how the slightest cold or frost destroyed them.

Usually those words were said on cold mornings, Rapunzel remembered, the kind of gray chilly dawn when she only saw the outside when she opened the window to let her mother inside, and then closed it again quick so the cold wouldn't get in.

She only saw daylight for a few moments on those days. A quick glimpse and then gone, an iron sky with snowflakes drifting down like ashes. Open, shut, and then the only light came from the lamps in her room.

On those mornings her mother talked about the fragility of the roses, how a single night of adversity would kill them. Then she would smile sadly, cup Rapunzel's face in her hands, and say, "Remember, my dear, how you are like those roses to me! One moment of the world's cruelty and I would lose you forever, you would die from the cold and what would the world care? No one out there would mourn you, trust me, but I! I would perish from loneliness! That is why I keep you here, to protect you from the cold of the world."

Here her mother would embrace her, fold her into arms that radiated warmth and security, and Rapunzel would snuggle into that warmth and feel so happy that she had a mother who loved her and kept her safe from the cold and the ashes…

Thunk thunk!

Rapunzel started at the sound, blinked and realized she'd been sitting very still and staring at the sunlit flowers so hard her eyes hurt. She blinked again and rubbed her eyes, looking around to see where that sound had come from.

Nadine? But no, the dressmaker was still inside – Rapunzel peered into her chambers and saw Nadine standing with the page just inside the door that led to the corridor.

Nadine was looking her way, however, and as soon as their eyes met she waved her hand to catch Rapunzel's attention and said, in a somewhat louder than usual voice, "I'll be right back, miss, I have to go find something in my sewing rooms for my husband. That is, if I have your leave."

Rapunzel smiled and nodded, of course, only wondering a little bit what the doctor would need from his wife's sewing rooms. Nadine dropped a grateful curtsey and hurried out of the room with the page.

Rapunzel was alone. And still had no idea where that strange noise had -

Thunk!

Below- that sound came from behind and below her. Curious now, Rapunzel twisted in her chair to look, and when the sound came again rose, walked to the edge of the balcony, and peered over the stone ledge.

There, two stories beneath Rapunzel, lay a courtyard. It wasn't as large or grand as the main courtyard, only about half as wide and separated from the street next to it by a very high stone wall. Several crates and barrels, some broken, lay scattered along the wall, and directly below sat an open wagon with three large barrels loaded in the back. A squire was hitching a dappled horse to the wagon's traces, and talking to someone she couldn't see.

Then a door creaked, and another person appeared, a large man with a bald head who was carrying another barrel on his shoulder. He threw it onto the wagon

THUNK

where it wobbled and settled against the other two.

The man wiped his hands and rubbed his shoulder. "Is the horse hitched up?"

"Yes, sir," the squire replied, tugging the trace rope to make sure it was secure.

"Good," The man sighed and walked around to the wagon's driving bench.

There was more conversation, but Rapunzel lifted her eyes away from the scene, uninterested now that her curiosity had been satisfied.

A breeze blew in from the sea, cool and refreshing, with a salty tinge to it Rapunzel had never experienced before. She stood and inhaled the fragrance deeply, hugging herself and letting its newness sparkle inside of her. She opened her eyes and gazed out at the distant shimmering blue, so tantalizing and full of the promise of adventure.

Soon. Soon her prince would return from the cavalry field and they would go to the sea together. He must be close to being finished, perhaps Nadine had gone to see him in and that's why she hadn't returned yet. Yes, Jasen would stride onto the balcony any moment, sweep her into his arms, and they would be off to the sea -

"Oh, you didn't hear? No pickup at the cavalry field this morning. Durwin said to steer clear."

Rapunzel frowned, her eyes still on the distant sparkling water but – what had she just heard? She leaned over the stone ledge again and looked down.

It was the squire who had spoken, and now he was shrugging at the other man, who was now sitting on the driver's bench with the horse's reins in his hands.

"I dunno," the squire said, looking up at the man and squinting in the morning sun. "Doctor saw me bringin' the wagon out an' said 'is that for Walters?' an' I said 'yeh', an' he said 'Tell 'im not to come near the horse field' an' somethin' about wolves."

Walters – Rapunzel assumed that was the other man's name – dropped his fisted hands in his lap in an annoyed way. "But I've got ten empty barrels to pick up from there! And what's wolves got to do with anything? The woods are full of wolves!"

"Not these kind," the squire replied, shaking his head. "I heard the page talkin' to his brother, these are big red ones, they tore apart the mornin' patrol. Killed one of 'em."

Rapunzel gasped and stepped back from the ledge, so quickly that she bumped into the breakfast table and sent her silverware clattering to the stone floor.

Red wolves! And her prince was out there! Suddenly Rapunzel looked around herself wildly, unable to breathe, the familiar panic pounding in her chest and gripping her throat, tightening it painfully. The sea and the flowers and the morning all went away and suddenly there was only black, black night and a huge gulf between her and her beloved, and her mother had killed the birds and they were all dead -

The next time Rapunzel blinked she was running through her chambers, pausing only long enough to reach beneath her pillow and grab the hilt of the water-dagger King Daenas had given her, which she had hidden there. Then she darted down the stairs, her heart racing, her feet bare and the summer dress hiked above her knees so she could run faster. The hall was empty – maybe – but she didn't even look around, she just bolted through the first open door she saw, and a moment later she was standing in the palace courtyard.

It was early morning still and the courtyard was deserted, the cobblestones cold and damp beneath her feet. Rapunzel looked around in a panic, her breath coming in shallow gasps, red wolves! It was her mother, she was sure, her mother had found them and was trying to kill them, what could she do?

Get to the cavalry yard, she thought as she gripped the water-dagger hilt and tucked into her dress pocket. Get to the prince. Hurry, hurry, her mother might have found him already – hurry -

The large double wooden doors to the courtyard were closed, but the bar that locked them was not down. Rapunzel ran to the left door and threw herself against it, felt the door give, and as soon as there was enough room slipped through the opening and found herself in the street.

The wagon with Walters in it was just going by, and without thinking Rapunzel picked up her skirts again and darted after it. "Stop!"

Walters turned, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. He pulled on the horses' reins and the wagon thudded to a halt.

He stared at Rapunzel. She realized she had no idea what she was doing, and stared up at him, frozen.

Walters frowned, then shrugged. "Well? You need something?"

"I - " Rapunzel blinked, tried to take a breath. Forced the panic down, Jasen needed her. "Are you going near the cavalry field?"

"Humph! No," Walters made a face, and looked Rapunzel up and down. "Why, who are you? Kitchen maid needing a ride home?"

Rapunzel's eyebrows went up in surprise and she was about to say no but the word caught in her throat.

Walters harrumphed again and turned around on the bench. "The cooper's shop is as close as I'm getting to that part of town today. Get on if there's room, but hurry up! I've got work to do."

Rapunzel thought very fast. This man didn't know who she was, and if he did know he would very likely send her back inside. Someone would notice she was missing any moment and come out here after her, and she'd never get to her prince then. She had to move fast. She had to run -

But there was no room in the back of the wagon. The barrels were large and filled up the entire space.

That left one option. Rapunzel quickly skirted around the wagon and climbed onto the wooden bench next to Walters.

"What - " Walters began, then glancing at Rapunzel quickly shrugged and scooted a short distance away. "Oh, all right. But no fussing and no chatter! I'm not a royal coach."

Rapunzel nodded agreement and gripped the old, splintered wood of the bench with both hands, not looking behind her. Walters flapped the reins, and the wagon started up the street.

*******

Ormand had just finished reckoning the artillery account, along with eating the last of the breakfast tray that had arrived at his study, and as the clock on his fireplace mantel chimed eight times was grumbling about both.

The artillery accounts were the usual mess – that was to be expected, few of the artillerymen could write and those who could couldn't count. Making the requisitions and inventory match was always a nightmare, and expected.

The breakfast was another thing, and Ormand glared at the empty plate and dirty silverware as he pushed it aside on his desk, as if it had wronged him.

Well, it had. It was cold, and it was late, both for the same damned reason. The page who was supposed to bring it went missing, probably tattling to his friends about the wolf attack, and Ormand had had to yell down the corridor to find out why it had not been brought. Yell, like a commoner! Of course when the page finally came running with it, the coffee was spilled all over the food and the napkin and silverware were all jumbled together.

The idiot child was red-faced with shame and tearfully offered to 'fetch another tray', but Ormand was hungry and cross and barked at the lad to get out so he could get his work done. Ormand refrained from kicking the page on his way out, even though the little wretch deserved it. He did, however, slam the door.

Now the cold, coffee-soaked breakfast was eaten, work was begun, and Ormand found himself glaring at the empty dishes and still fuming. It was childish, he knew, and unproductive, but he couldn't get past it.

I need to take a walk, he decided impulsively, and left the office to stomp down the empty corridor. The prince was at the cavalry grounds, Durwin was with him, and most of the staff was either still sleeping or occupied in their chores. Ormand supposed that silly commoner Rapunzel was eating breakfast in her chambers, like the proper royalty she wasn't. That left the halls deserted, which was fine with Ormand. He wanted to brood.

Always he was last, he seethed as he harrumphed toward the main hall. Always he was not a priority. Once no one would have dared slight him; when the prince was young and a steward was needed, Ormand had gotten the respect he deserved. Now it was cold breakfasts and 'oh, sorry, forgot you were here.'

Ormand's eyes narrowed as he reached the entrance to the great hall and his gaze travelled to the portraits that hung there. The king and the queen, with their carefully groomed and pampered brats. The foreigner queen and her useless offspring. So much power, and not enough of it his. Wrongfully, stupidly, none of it his!

But not for much longer. Morrine had promised. All Ormand had to do was wait, play his part, and that injustice would be fixed. He would have to be careful, of course, because once Nimianae's brat was dead he would be suspected of being involved. And Morrine had promised him the death blow, so of course he would be involved.

How to manage that? Ormand frowned and squinted at the prince's painting, that ridiculous one of him holding the scallop shell and standing at the balcony wall. Ormand studied the young man's build, his height, trying to gauge how the murder would go down. He was taller than Jasen, and broader, so overpowering the prince would not be a problem, but Ormand did not like pain and wondered if he could kill the prince without being injured himself.

He would ask Morrine about that. She would make sure he was safe, cast a spell or something. She wanted Rapunzel and he was giving her what she wanted. She owed him. Just like the royal family and the kingdom owed him, for his years of dedication and selfless devotion of his intellect to preserving this wretched country. Everyone owed him.

And now, he was going to make certain they paid.

That thought cheered Ormand somewhat, and he turned to make his way back to his study when he noticed that, for some reason, the door leading to the courtyard was hanging open. Frowning, he glanced up and down the hall, but there were no pages around for him to give an order to. Sighing heavily, he walked to the door and grasped the handle to close it himself.

It was a bright sunny morning outside, but Ormand only glanced at the courtyard, as he always did. But at that moment he noticed the large double doors leading from the courtyard to the street were also open, and a goose was at that moment wandering through the doorway into the courtyard.

"Oh, hell," Ormand muttered. He hated geese, they messed all over everything and if that beast got in the palace he'd be slipping on droppings all day. He strode out into the courtyard and, just before the goose could turn around and notice him, he snatched the bird up in his strong hands, pinning its wings to its sides, and hurried toward the door. He pushed the door open with his foot and prepared to toss the fowl out into the street.

A moment's thought made him hesitate, however, and as the bird turned its beady eyes toward him he leaned in close and whispered, "Morrine?"

The goose blinked stupidly at him. "Honk."

"Hey!"

Ormand looked up. A young boy in peasant clothes was running across the street, his tiny fists raised in anger and his curly red hair flying.

"Whatchoo doin' wit' my goose!" the child demanded.

Ormand quickly dropped the bird and pushed it with his boot – maybe kicked it – toward the boy. "Getting it out of the palace courtyard. You're lucky I didn't order it executed!"

The goose flapped its wings and waddled behind the boy, who squinted up at Ormand suspiciously. "Was you talkin' to it?"

"Don't be absurd!" Ormand answered, embarrassed now and covering it the way he always did, with fury. He looked away from the boy, up the street at nothing, and turned to go back inside. "Get out of here."

"You was talkin' to it, I saw you," the boy insisted. "You some kind of ninny?"

But Ormand wasn't listening to the boy anymore. He had blinked, and suddenly realized that the 'nothing' he was looking at up the street wasn't nothing – it was the back of a moving wagon, very small as it was far up the street but he'd recognize Walters' empty wine barrels anywhere. It was Walters, likely on his way to the cooper's.

And sitting next to Walters was a young woman with short blonde hair wearing a blue dress.

"Rapunzel!"

Nadine's voice, from deep inside the palace. Ormand heard it once, then again, stared at the girl sitting next to Walters as the wagon grew smaller, smaller, then turned a corner and disappeared.

"Rapunzel!"

Ormand knew what he was looking at, who he was looking at, but he didn't understand it at all. Why was Rapunzel leaving the palace grounds with Walters? It didn't make sense. And anyway, what if something happened to her and he couldn't hand her over to Morrine?

"Hey!"

Ormand blinked, looked down. The belligerent little boy was glaring up at him, squinting at him in freckled fury.

"Hey, mister," the child scowled. "Ain't you got ears? I'm talkin' to you!"

"Rapunzel!"

Ormand shook his head, annoyed, and stepped back toward the open gate. He fished in his pocket and found a copper coin, threw it at the boy's feet for no reason he could think of except he was buying the child's silence against anything that might come later. Given the way the boy squealed with delight and dived after the copper, he was certain he'd done the right thing. He hurried back into the courtyard and closed the door behind him.

At that same moment Nadine came out the palace door, looking around in confusion, her face flushed. Her eyes met Ormand's and she blurted, "Have you seen Miss Rapunzel?"

Deciding to see where this led, Ormand shook his head and arranged his face to look as blank as possible. "Did you lose her?"

"Well, I guess so!" Nadine remarked, putting her hands on her ample hips and turning her gaze around the courtyard. "I went to help the page find some more cotton batting in case Durwin needed it, and when I went back to her chambers she was gone. But where could she go?"

Ormand shrugged. "Wasn't she going down to the beach? Perhaps the prince came back early and escorted her there."

But Nadine shook her head. "Oh, no, he'll be at the calvary field helping Durwin for hours, he's just like his mother, never can stay away in a crisis. Oh!" Nadine's hand flew to her mouth and her face paled. "What if she found out about the wolves and went to go be with him?"

Ormand frowned. "Would she do that? She hardly seems the type to want to go looking for danger. More like a hothouse flower if you - "

"Oh, no, you have no idea," Nadine's hands fluttered in a panicked way about her hips, and she turned to go back into the palace. "And there's no one here to escort her, they're all at the fields, I'm sure she set out by herself. If anything happens to her the prince will never forgive me!"

The idea struck Ormand so hard he actually staggered a bit. "I'll go look for her."

Nadine was on the top step of the doorway leading into the palace. She turned and looked at him. "You will? But - "

Ormand tried to smile kindly – he wasn't sure if he was doing it right – and put one hand on Nadine's arm. "Ma'am, who else is there to go? I have a good horse, I can have him saddled up in five minutes, the stablehands will make sure of it. I'll go fetch the maid and bring her right back here until the prince returns."

Nadine turned back and forth on the steps, clearly distraught over the missing girl, and Ormand watched her actions and inwardly gloated. He knew she wouldn't question him volunteering to do what was clearly beneath him, and that could only work to his advantage. He would ride out, fetch that stupid girl, and tie her down if he had to to keep her from getting herself killed before he could hand her over to Morrine. Nobody was going to ruin this for him now; he was too close, and it was too assured.

"Well, all right," Nadine sighed, and patted Ormand's arm gratefully. "I'll go get her cloak, she might need it if the sea wind kicks up. And please, if you see the prince don't tell him I let her run away!"

"Don't worry, ma'am, I won't," Ormand replied, and as Nadine smiled in appreciation and went inside he glanced from the doorway to the distant street, where he knew Walters was making his way – slowly - through the winding streets of the kingdom. He had told Ormand many times how much he dawdled on such journeys, just to breathe the fresh air and be out of the palace wine cellars for a while.

Ormand always thought Walters was lazy, and a shirker, but today it would work to his advantage. There was plenty of time to catch up to them.

As Ormand turned to go back inside he contemplated that it was a rare stroke of fortune that of all the palace staff to fall in with, Rapunzel would be riding with Walters, the one person Ormand knew was on his side. If anything happened, or Rapunzel said anything of interest, Walters would make sure it worked to Ormand's advantage. He was useful that way. Ormand made a note to himself to ask Morrine not to kill him, at least not before that usefulness ran out.

He went inside to change into his riding clothes, and bellowed for the stable page to get his horse and saddle ready.


	12. Chapter 12

Walters, the wine steward, was not happy in his life.

He reflected on this fact as he drove his cart full of empty wine barrels slowly up the cobblestone street toward the cooper's house on the other side of town. It was a sunny day, still morning but promising to be warm, not hot, and with a nice cool breeze. Something to be happy about, to be sure, but Walters was not happy; and he knew he should have been.

His passenger had something to do with it. Walters glanced at her as he guided his two-horse team through the narrow streets, which were fortunately not very crowded. She was not looking at him, which he was glad about because if she caught his eye she might say something, and he did not generally like small talk. But he took the risk again, and glanced at her, just the same.

Who was she? A kitchen wench possibly, although she looked too clean for that. Her hands, which were gripping the bench as they rode along and flexing as if they were impatient about something, weren't cracked and raw with hard work as he knew the kitchen girls' hands to be. So, maybe not.

A new lady's maid, then, perhaps for that doxie the prince had taken up with. That was a possibility. It would explain her generally clean appearance and the obviously well-made summer frock she wore, although it did not explain her ghastly haircut. Walters had never seen a woman's hair cut that short, and unevenly too, although it had been curled and smoothed over to try to hide that fact. Maybe she had caught it in something - a spinning wheel came to mind - or maybe burnt in a fire. That would explain the apparent haste with which it had been shorn.

But had that happened at the palace? Walters didn't remember hearing anything about that kind of accident, and the pages always chattered about such things amongst themselves when they brought him the empty wine bottles after dinner. Who got trampled by a horse, who caught their finger in a door, who fell down those ridiculous floating stairs in the main hall. Walters searched his memory a little more, and didn't remember hearing anything about a lady's maid tangling her hair in a spinning wheel. He shrugged, turned his eyes to the road, and decided it must have happened somewhere else.

Of course, he considered as he guided the wagon through the cool morning shadows, it's not like anyone would tell him if something like that happened, anyway. Nobody ever talked to him at the palace. He spent every day shut away in the cellar tending to the wine and the ale and the spirits, living below ground like a troll, and even those silly pages never looked at him. Unless someone needed a bottle of something, or wanted to complain, it was like he didn't even exist.

Not that he minded, usually. Walters had learned a long time ago that whatever knack you needed to get along with people, he didn't have it, so at a young age he sought out a profession where he could do something honorable and yet be around other human beings as little as possible. Being a wine steward was a perfect fit.

The rest of his family were all noisy, talkative types who got along with everybody, so of course they didn't understand him at all. He came to feel as if they were happy to be rid of him, so after he grew up and went from apprentice to journeyman and finally to master, he wrote to them less and less and their responses became fewer and fewer. And nobody seemed to mind that at all.

Finally he came into the king's employ, and worked for a few years at the main palace. He hated it. The palace itself felt like one big cellar, dark and chilly and oddly humid, as if a breeze never went through the place. The wine cellar was large but felt cramped and claustrophobic, and the other wine stewards he worked with seemed to soak up the personalities of bad old wine – sour, bitter old men who were yelled at by the king and in turn, yelled at Walters who being the youngest was at the bottom of the pecking order. When the chance came to transfer to the new palace by the sea, Walters jumped at it eagerly.

And it was better there, for a while. The palace was airier, brighter, and the wine cellar smelled of cedar and ripe grapes and fresh dirt, not mold and bitterness. The king was as mean as ever but the new queen seemed to actually notice the wine, even sent him notes of appreciation from time to time. That was how Walters met the new steward all those years ago.

He hadn't given the matter much thought, of course. When Ormand brought him that note from Queen Nimianae that night and introduced himself as the steward, Walters had frowned and remarked that he thought the king already had a steward; and it wasn't Ormand.

"No, that's at the other palace," Ormand explained as he tossed the note onto the large oaken table, the one where Walters tested his new blends and was thus stained and somewhat damp in spots. "I'm the steward for this place. To look after things and make decisions...until the young princes are grown, of course."

Walters had frowned at that, and quickly picked up the note from where Ormand had dropped it, which was right in a small puddle of new wine. The fine paper was swiftly blooming purple.

He glanced at the note – which was a simple 'thank you for the excellent dessert wine', written in a fine unwavering hand – but that was merely a cover, because despite not liking people very much he was actually pretty good at reading them, and the frustrated ambition he read in Ormand made him a little uncomfortable. He nodded his thanks, Ormand turned and went back up the stairs, and Walters was glad he was gone. He wanted to stay where he was and do his work; he had had enough of palace intrigue at the king's castle.

If Ormand noticed that Walters didn't particularly like him in those early days, he never let on. Every once in a while he would show up in the wine cellars, sometimes to deliver a wine or ale request but sometimes for no apparent reason at all, and sit for a while at Walters' table and talk.

It was just about all gossip, which Walters found irritating and not very interesting, but after two or three visits he figured out what Ormand was doing; and that was testing alliances.

"That new queen is just about the strangest creature I've ever laid eyes on," Ormand would complain as Walters cleaned and stacked wine bottles, his back to the steward so he could ignore him if he wished. "I know her people are supposed to be able to look like us but her skin just isn't right. It's our color but it – I don't know – shimmers like fish scales. The king is a fool to trust her."

Walters kept his mouth shut – the last thing he wanted was to be tried for treason if he said the wrong thing – and by doing so learned a lot more about what happened in the palace halls than if he'd actually gone up there.

The queen was strange, the kingdom was going to ruin. The two princes, Maximilian and Robriand, were both undisciplined brats. The new queen was pregnant, and half the palace staff thought the new prince would have gills and a tail. The other half – the stupid half – actually liked the queen and thought it was wonderful.

"Another silver-spooned mouth to feed!" Ormand groused as Walters poured him a sample of a hard cider he'd been working on. "And the royal treasury can't even support one palace, let alone two. Ugh! Well, maybe that scaly wench will die in...childbirth or spawning or whatever the hell her kind does...and solve both problems at once."

Walters did not, of course, tell Ormand that he was with the 'stupid' half of the palace who liked Queen Nimianae. She was the only member of the royal household to send him notes about his wine, the only person to acknowledge and appreciate his work. She had even come down to the cellar once to pay her respects, and Walters did not think she looked scaly or strange at all. But Ormand was not the sort of person you argued with, and Walters did not think the matter important enough anyway. He just nodded, and asked Ormand what he thought of the cider.

Ormand thumped the mug down on the table and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Damned crowned heads," he muttered, and turned and left.

The new prince was born, Ormand complained about it, time passed. And for that time, things actually weren't bad in Walters' life. He kept to what he knew, his wines and his ales, and told himself that at least he could say he had been able to make one friend in the world, even if that friend talked more than listened and never asked about Walters at all. It was the best a misfit like him was ever going to do, and it wasn't bad. Walters accepted it, and thought, things really weren't so bad.

Then the queen died, and everything changed.

It was strange, Walters thought as he turned the horse and wagon down a side street and glanced up at the morning sky to check for rain, but he'd never thought much about how happy the palace seemed with Queen Nimianae there, until she was gone.

He'd seen Prince Jasen a dozen times or so, usually at a distance, usually in the courtyard as he went to oversee the unloading of fresh wine casks. A happy-looking child, not as handsome as Maximilian or as robust as Robriand but that didn't seem to matter to Jasen or his mother. They played together in the courtyard, the queen nodded to Walters, and Walters nodded back, thinking at that moment that the sun didn't feel so bad on his face and he should come out of the cellar more often.

Then the terrible sea-battle happened. Walters did not hear all the details, and Ormand never talked about it except to complain that now he had to be steward to a 'stinking heap of sand'. There were serpents, and a water-battle that was violent enough to bring about three inches of sea-water into the wine cellar; and he along with the rest of the palace staff were taken to the king's palace, and by the time they returned the battle was over, and the queen was dead.

Part of Walters still grieved for that day. He missed the laughter, and the sunlight, and someone appreciating his wines instead of just gulping them down and asking for more. He missed someone actually noticing him for once. That had been nice. He wasn't used to it.

But a larger part – the practical, cynical part – saw the pall of drudgery that descended over those glittering sandstone walls, heard the laughter muffle and fade until it disappeared, and listened to Ormand's voice drone on fraught with its usual frustration and anger, and thought, well, this is what my life's supposed to be, isn't it? Even my parents said I'd never do better, and I never did. It's not a bad life, and I was never cut out to have true friends or be appreciated anyway. Just put your head down and get the work done. The wine's in the cask, and there's nothing else to be done.

"Is the cavalry yard much farther?"

The young female voice beside Walters startled him; he'd completely forgotten the scullery maid he'd picked up as he was leaving the palace. He blinked, saw that they were still on the side street that would soon wind up the hill to the cooper's shop. He also noticed that he hadn't been paying attention to the horse's pace, and it was clopping along so slowly it had nearly stopped.

Embarrassed, Walters flapped the reins and the horse twitched its ears and began trotting faster. Clearing his throat to cover the awkwardness, Walters nodded to the hill in front of them. "No, it's right up at the top of that hill."

He glanced at the girl then, saw her eyes go wide as they travelled up the side of the hill.

"But I'm not going up there, I told you," Walters grumbled as he turned back to the horse. He flapped the reins again; damn, his daydreaming was going to make him late. "The cooper's shop is just around the first bend. You'll have to walk the rest of the way."

The girl was quiet, and Walters was satisfied that his tone conveyed his wishes: that she not wheedle him for anything else, and she not bother him with chatter while he was trying to get to the cooper's shop as swiftly as possible. He worked the time out in his head, how long to unload the casks and get fresh ones, how long to get back to the palace, and all the time there was only the sounds of the village around him – the quacks of various fowl, the shouts of the townspeople, the distant ringing of the school bell – and the steady quick clopping of the horse's hooves on the cobblestones. Everything familiar, safe, and right where it had always been.

"Thank you."

The girl, again. Walters glanced over at her and she was brushing her short hair out of her face and looking at him with those large eyes. Grateful those eyes were, grateful like a small puppy when you picked it up out of a mud puddle.

Walters didn't know how to deal with that so he shrugged, grunted, and turned his eyes back to the street. The horse was starting to wander to the left, and he tugged the rein to get it to move over.

There was silence for a moment, then the girl sighed for some reason. "I'm – I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."

Walters frowned, glanced at her again, but she wasn't looking at him; she was looking down at her hands, wringing them nervously.

But why would he make her nervous? Nobody ever paid him enough mind for things like that. He shrugged again. "You're alright. Just - "

"My mother always said I was ungrateful," the girl interrupted, looking up at the sky. "She said I never appreciated things, and I wish – I was never around people, you see, I grew up alone and sometimes I think I just don't know how to be around all these people, how to – how to be one of them. So I'm probably messing this up but I really do appreciate you giving me a ride. And your wine is really good."

The girl said all these words so fast Walters could barely understand her, but her final words brought him up short. He looked at her again, really looked at her this time and noticed how pale she was, and the odd cut of her hair. Short and ragged, like someone had chopped it off. It was curled and tucked to lessen the effect, but the morning breeze had loosened some of the strands so now they floated about the girl's face. "You've had some of my wine?"

The girl smiled a little, and nodded. "Last night, with dinner. I don't know a lot about wine, my mother only let me have a little once in a while, but what I had last night tasted – light and like...like spring in the country. Have you been a winemaker for a long time?"

Walters was racking his brain now; what this pale girl was saying did not make sense. Scullery maids didn't drink palace wine with their dinner. He nodded absently. "Just about my whole life."

"Well, you're very good at it," the girl replied, then fell silent.

Walters' head was spinning. Where would this scullery maid have gotten her hands on his wine? Unless..."Were you attending to the prince's dinner? The one in the Emerald Chamber?"

"Yes," the girl answered.

Walters thought some more. She probably snuck some of the leftover wine after the prince and his lady left; that was it. "Well, that wasn't my wine that was served with dinner. That was brought to the palace by someone else. Was it red?"

The girl paused, and Walters could see he was coming to the end of the cobblestone road, to a stone wall where the road formed a T. He aimed the horse to the left, to begin the journey up the slope toward the cooper's shop.

"We did have red," the girl admitted. "And it was all right, but too bitter. We had a clear wine with dessert, that was the one I liked. It reminded me of waking up, of a bright morning and being happy. Did you make that one?"

Walters cleared his throat. "That's called white wine, not clear. And yes, that was mine."

"I knew it!" the girl said happily, the first really cheerful tone in her voice Walters had heard. "I knew it came from here, it was sparkling and bright, just like this place. Have we turned toward the cobbler's shop?"

Walters nodded, and remembering his earlier words reined the horse to a stop. He turned toward the girl. "So you drank some of my white wine last night, eh? And you're admitting it?"

The girl's eyes widened and her eyebrows went up. "Should I not be?"

"Well, I wouldn't go trumpeting it about the palace," Walters mumbled as he faced forward again.

"Oh," the girl said quietly, and paused another moment. Then she crossed her left leg over her right at the knee and began doing something with her left shoe. "I'm sorry. Thank you for the ride."

Walters nodded, suddenly annoyed for no reason he could think of. He turned his gaze forward, and was trying to figure out how long it would take him to get back to the palace when he felt something bump against his arm and glanced over to see that the girl had removed her shoes and was holding them in her left hand.

And they were not the shoes of a scullery maid.

Walters stared at the elegant, seafoam-green slippers for a moment, thrown. Before he could stop himself he blurted, "You're not a scullery maid!"

But by then the girl had hopped from the cart onto the street, pushed her slippers into a side pocket of her dress and was quickly gathering her skirt in her right hand. Not a scullery maid's skirt at all either, damn it! That was the royal seamstress' handiwork, why hadn't he seen it before? "Miss, you shouldn't go to the cavalry field. It's dangerous, there's red wolves up there."

"I know," the girl – what was her name? Rapunzel - replied, and suddenly in her left hand was a dagger hilt – no blade, but still it looked like it could be a weapon.

Walters' eyes widened, and he suddenly remembered his conversation with Ormand the night before, about magic and dark things that lived in the woods. "Miss, you really shouldn't - "

But before Walters could say another word, Rapunzel turned and ignoring him ran quickly up the hill, faster than Walters had seen anyone run, her finely made skirt billowing behind her and the morning sun glinting in her hair.

Walters blinked, stared long after she had turned the corner at the end of the street and gone out of sight. He couldn't think for a moment. He was stunned.

Then his sense returned and he thought, damn, damn! That was Prince Jasen's girl, that was Rapunzel. Go after her, damn it, she's his royal guest and if she gets into trouble it'll be your head on the chopping block. If anything happens -

But he didn't move. Why, he wasn't sure for a moment. Then he realized several things, all at once.

That there were red wolves on the cavalry field, and there had not been red wolves – or red anything – in that part of the kingdom for a long time. The last time there was, the kingdom had nearly been destroyed.

That Ormand was not happy with the prince, or his new lady, or much of anything. And he knew where the dark magic was, in the woods.

That the prince, Queen Nimianae's son, was on that field, and that could not possibly be a coincidence.

And that girl – the lady Rapunzel whom the prince had brought home from some mysterious place nd was now running toward possible danger with a dagger hilt in her hand – had complimented his white wine. No one had paid him a compliment – or any attention at all – in years.

All of these things churned and collided in Walters' mind, and made his head hurt, he was not used to having to think about life much at all. So many thing at once numbed him.

So what did he do? What he had set out to do, his work. He did what he had always done, the rote of the familiar that had served him so well in the past.

He turned his horse's head to the cobblestone road, and continued toward the cooper's shop; and tried not to think about what that bright-haired girl might find at the top of the hill.


	13. Chapter 13

Five minutes after Ormand had his conversation with Nadine, he was changed into his riding clothes and on his horse. The gates were opened and he had ridden out at a canter, his horse's hooves clattering as they trotted swiftly down the cobblestone street in the morning sunshine. Nadine was standing by the open gate looking very worried, and Ormand smiled reassuringly and waved to her as he rode past. Everything will be fine, his expression said. Everything will be just fine -

Halfway down the street he turned into an alleyway just so he didn't have to smile anymore, and shook his head as he lowered his arm and wondered at the gullibility of some people. That woman was worried now, by sunrise she would be wailing. The entire palace would be in mourning and he would rule it.

He only had to find the girl.

Ormand glanced up at the sun, now visible as a brilliant rectangle of light formed by the two tall buildings he was riding between - a tavern on one side, he remembered, and a lodging-house on the other. The alleyway was littered with garbage and scraps of old food along with a few bones, hardly a fit place for a royal steward. But it was deserted and Ormand reined his horse in. He needed a few moments to think.

The cooper's shop was not a huge distance away, and even at his usual lazy saunter Walters was probably close enough that Rapunzel had jumped off and would run the rest of the way. The climb uphill on foot would not be a fast one, and Ormand was certain he could catch up with her before she got to the cavalry fields at the top of the hill, but…

...but then what? He could order her back to the palace, but he wasn't sure the girl was even from their kingdom and she seemed to be either crazy or something of a brat. If she refused to go back with him – or if she somehow made it close enough to the cavalry field for the prince to see her – Ormand couldn't do much about it.

Then the whole plan might be ruined. If Rapunzel made it to the prince's side they might decide to go down to the beach and frolic there all day, all night, and he would never be able to get them apart so he could kill the prince and hand the girl over to Morrine. Ormand did not like to think of what might happen if he had to tell Morrine that the deal was off, or even delayed. He'd heard about what happened when witches were disappointed.

Of course, Ormand reasoned as he guided his horse down the gray-lit alleyway, he could always blame the whole thing on Walters. Then Morrine would go after him and leave Ormand alone. Yes, that could work; and no one would miss the wine steward anyway, they'd just send for another one from the palace.

That still didn't solve his problem, though. Once he caught up to Rapunzel he had to think of a reason for her to return to the palace with him instead of continuing on with her journey, and he had nothing.

Damn, if only he had sent that letter to the king, revealing the prince's courtship of a commoner, a day earlier! The reply might have been back by now, demanding that the girl be removed at once to spare the crown the embarrassment of the third-born son marrying before the crown prince, and his future would be assured. Not even Prince Jasen could defy such a decree, and Ormand could simply show the paper, trot Rapunzel out into the woods straight into Morrine's clutches, and murder the prince while he was wallowing in his silly grief.

So simple, and yet like so much of his life Ormand was frustrated and thrwarted by circumstances he couldn't control. Damn! He cursed again as he spurred his horse a little faster, why were things never given to him like they were the princes and that girl? He deserved the crown and glory, much more than they did. And he was going to get it, no matter what.

He was going to ride out of that alley, up the street, catch up to Rapunzel and throw her over his saddle if necessary. He could always say he was just concerned for her safety. Yes, that would work. It would have to.

Ormand could see the opening at the other end of the alleyway and the sunlit street beyond, and remembered that that street would take him straight to the bottom of the hill where the avenue to the cavalry field lay. He gave his horse another spur, then noticed a charwoman was in the alleyway sweeping litter out of a doorway and slowed down. It wouldn't do for one of the peasants to see him loitering there, he had to be careful. He looked away as he approached, and guided the horse quickly past, knowing that few of the local idiots would have the presence of mind to recognize the horse as his -

"Ormand, what are you doing?"

Startled, Ormand reined his horse in and turned around. The figure in the doorway wasn't a charwoman at all, but Morrine. Morrine, dressed in a dark and dusty dress of very rough fabric and nearly unrecognizable with her long dark hair hidden by a plain kerchief tied and tucked about her head.

Her eyes, though, there was no mistaking those, or her voice. Those sharp eyes trained on him now, and Morrine stopped plying her broom at the jumbled pile in the doorway and leaned against it, tilting her head and frowning at Ormand.

DAMN, Ormand thought, every coherent word fleeing his mind in panic. He stared at her.

Morrine's scowl deepened. "Well?"

Furious that this woman should frighten him, Ormand straightened up in the saddle and glared down at Morrine defensively.

"Rapunzel's run off," he blurted sharply, "She took off this morning, on the wine steward's wagon. I'm going after her."

Morrine's eyebrows went up. "She ran off? Where?"

"Up the hill, to the cavalry field," Ormand answered. "Walters gave her a ride. She's halfway up there by now."

Morrine glanced over her shoulder, toward where the field lay. "She's going to the prince?"

"Yes," Ormand replied, edging his horse away. With any luck Morrine would be distracted by her anger at Rapunzel and Walters and he could get away unscathed. "And she'll get to him too, if I don't catch her first so if you'll excuse me - "

Morrine's head whipped back around, her eyes piercing Ormand with their gaze. "And where do you think you're going?"

The horse neighed, reared, and then stood stock-still. Damn it, Ormand thought to himself, she's enchanted the beast – no amount of prodding could budge it an inch. Giving up, he looked at the witch and sighed. "I'm going to stop her! This isn't the plan, remember? We need them both in the woods at dawn tomorrow, not right now - "

"The plan!" Morrine smiled then, a bright ugly smile that made Ormand's next words die on his lips. "No, this isn't the plan, this is so much better! You say she's going to the prince?"

Suddenly feeling very cold, Ormand nodded. "There was an attack in the woods near the cavalry field, red wolves. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"I do," Morrine said calmly, still smiling. "Go on."

Ormand cast about, thinking how to continue, then shrugged and said, "The prince was already up there to, I don't remember, look over the troops or something, and Rapunzel heard about the attack somehow and ran off."

Morrine's eyes widened, and Ormand could swear he could see right to her soul through them, icy black depths like the bottom of the deepest well. "So they will be up there together, by the woods? Soon, did you say? How soon?"

Ormand frowned, unprepared for this question. He glanced up at the sun again and calculated. "It's not a very steep hill, but she'll be on foot, Walters won't take her all the way up there. Maybe half an hour."

Morrine looked skyward too, and her ugly smile widened.

"Excellent," she murmured, to herself it seemed. "Oh, this is splendid!"

Ormand studied her face, trying to find some clue there, but came up empty. "It is?"

"Yes," Morrine turned her eyes to him again, sharp and black and cold. "Listen to me, very carefully. Tarry in the streets for an hour, and then ride up to the back edge of the woods by the cavalry yard. Not the side closest to the yard, the other side, where the wild brambles grow as tall as your horse's head. Understand?"

Ormand nodded, guessing her purpose. "You don't get the prince, remember our agreement. He's my kill."

"He won't be dead," Morrine promised, and Ormand swore the irises of her eyes were turning red as she spoke. "She won't be either, but I will teach her a lesson, and much sooner than I had dreamed. Do you have a blade with you?"

Too late, Ormand realized that he had ridden out without buckling on his sword. He glanced down and made a face. "No."

"Never mind," Morrine bent down over the pile of trash in the doorway and rummaged through it. When she straightened up again, Ormand saw that she was holding a plain leather sword scabbard and buckle in her hands. "Take this."

Ormand took it, and as soon as it was in his hands saw blood smeared all over the scabbard and strap. Fresh blood. "Where did you - "

It was only then that he looked down and saw that the broom in Morrine's hand was not a broom but a steel-tipped sharp staff, and the pile of trash in the doorway was not a pile of trash but a dead man - from the foreign look of his clothes, a traveler. There was a huge black hole in the middle of his chest and his clothes were saturated with blood.

Ormand blinked – the only part of his body that was not too shocked to move – and did not look at Morrine as she said, "When you come to the edge of the woods, wait. After I'm done avenging myself on Rapunzel I'll hand the prince over to you. You do what you like, then the wolves will tear both of them to pieces, and we will both get exactly what we want. Understood?"

The air was sitting still in Ormand's lungs, waiting for him to breathe. After a few more stunned seconds he somehow remembered how they worked, and took a few gasps. He nodded, trying his damnedest to not stare at the messy corpse at Morrine's feet.

Morrine, of course, noticed Ormand's shocked expression anyway and made a disgusted face at him before turning away.

"Do not be such a child in the face of mortality, Ormand," she chided, busying herself over the traveler's body. "What do you think the prince will look like when you're done with him? Do you really think death is clean and simple, as depicted in the palace tapestries?"

"No, I - " Ormand cleared his throat, furious that this woman should speak to him like that. Finally he harrumphed again and said, "What are you doing with that, anyway?"

Morrine turned back to Ormand and held up something in one hand. It was a jar, and there was a bloody human heart in it.

"Supplies," she answered.

The horse finally moved. It backed up two steps.

"The edge of the woods in one hour," Morrine repeated, lowering the jar and fixing Ormand with a commanding gaze. "Don't be late, and mind my wolves when you get there. They may still be feeding and sometimes they are difficult to control."

Ormand nodded. What else could he do? "Only leave the prince for me."

Morrine nodded, a smile of anticipation on her face. "Now go. I must stage this carefully and I have some planning to do."

The horse backed up another few paces, and Ormand wheeled it around and trotted out of the alleyway, shaken by what he had seen but, strangely, driven to higher confidence by it as well.

Morrine was obviously more powerful than he had given her credit for; but that was well, because it meant he had a strong ally who could get him what he wanted. And he would get it, not by dawn tomorrow but maybe by noon this very day! All he had to do was wait, and meet the witch by the woods in an hour.

Also, he reminded himself as he looked down at his belt, find a trough to wash all that dead man's blood off that stolen sword and scabbard; and try very hard to not think where it had come from.


	14. Chapter 14

"I need clean water. This bowl's got too much blood in it."

Durwin glanced up from the arm wound he was dressing and frowned. He didn't like what he was seeing; not at all.

It wasn't just the wounded. Durwin had arrived on the cavalry grounds an hour before, knowing thanks to the page's description of a wolf attack what to expect. Torn limbs, bleeding wounds, men suffering great pain – he had seen all of that before, and was prepared.

But this was something else. He had seen soldiers wounded, but not afraid as these men were afraid. Not visibly, of course – Prince Jasen was there, and they would never show naked fear in front of a prince, not even a third-born one. But as Durwin issued orders, had water fetched and began cutting away rent garments and bathing torn skin and bleeding gashes, he could feel the flesh tremble beneath his hands, and not from pain. From fear.

Durwin was not surprised to see Yates, the captain of the palace cavalry, tending to the injured men as they lay on hastily spread-out blankets in the morning sunshine, but he was surprised to see Prince Jasen. Surprised, and at once very worried.

"You should have sent him away," Durwin muttered the first time he had a moment alone with Yates and the prince was not within earshot. It was not long after he arrived, and was setting up his needle and thread next to the soldier who had been injured the worst – a brown-haired young man whose scalp and face looked cut to ribbons, and who wasn't moving. Yates was sitting next to Durwin with his back to him, tying a bandage around another soldier's arm, and glanced over his shoulder at Durwin's words.

As soon as their eyes met, Durwin nodded toward Jasen who was some distance away, talking to a bearded soldier very intently and not paying attention to them. "The prince shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

"You think I didn't tell him that?" Yates replied, a little testily, and glanced down at the unconscious young man. "You need some help?"

"If you can spare your hands," Durwin answered, bending down and very gently lifting the young man's hair away from his face and scalp. "I need someone to hold him still."

Yates turned back to the other man and asked something, which was answered with an affirmative grunt as far as Durwin could tell, and in the next moment the shadows rippled over the young man's face and Yates was at his elbow.

"How bad is he?" Yates asked, and when Durwin glanced up he saw the bald concern on the captain's face, the urgent dread of a father who knows his child is wounded and has to ask the question he does not want answered.

Durwin understood; he was a father, after all. "He's lost a great deal of blood, and he'll lose more if I don't close this gash on his head. What's his name?"

"Haleth," Yates answered as he placed a pitcher of water and a bowl on the blanket where the young man lay. "He got the worst of it, I think. Trying to save Steven."

"Steven?"

"His older brother. The wolves got him, he's still in the woods."

"Damn!" Durwin's eyes immediately flicked to Jasen. "The prince wants to retrieve him, doesn't he? I know that posture."

Yates sighed and nodded. "I told him I would have men sent out, and I have, but their first order is to make sure those wolves don't get near the villages or the palace. Retrieving Steven will have to wait, and the prince doesn't like that."

"Damn," Durwin muttered again, wincing as he bent closer to Haleth, smoothing the hair away from the wound. "A clean cloth, water."

Yates hurried to answer that summons, pressing a wet cloth into the physician's hands.

Durwin immediately began cleaning Haleth's face, the water running in crimson rivulets from the lad's unmoving face onto the blanket. "So, red wolves the page said."

"Yes," Yates replied, glancing over his shoulder again to make sure none of the other wounded soldiers were too close. They were being tended by Durwin's assistants and the other cavalry soldiers, and no one was paying attention to them. He continued, in a low and knowing voice. "Yes, according to Barret. Red wolves. Not timid, and not small. Big."

"Hm," Durwin grunted, and tried to push down the horrible feeling in his gut. He glanced up at the prince again. Jasen hadn't moved.

"You're thinking what I am," Yates guessed.

"And what's that?" Durwin replied, trying to give his voice a careless air as he bathed Haleth's wounds.

Of course, it didn't work. Yates didn't become captain of the cavalry because he was unobservant. "The red wolves. Magic. Thorn towers growing in the middle of the woods - "

"Sh," Durwin warned, his eyes never straying from Haleth's face.

Yates winced in chagrin, then leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "You and I are the same age, Durwin, we remember what happened before. Vashrath, the dark magic attacking the kingdom. The red wolves are just the start."

Damn it, Durwin cursed to himself, why was Yates echoing his own thoughts and driving that horrible feeling in his gut straight up his throat, to strangle him? He took a deep breath, two, and shook his head. "It won't come back. It can't. I won't let it."

"We won't let it," Yates agreed, handing Durwin another dripping cloth. "Do you think Nimianae was not as dear to me as she was to you? I was only a cadet when that attack came, it took me years to claw my way back from feeling like I should have done more to save her. I don't know what, but - "

"Regret is a bottomless pit," Durwin sighed, plying the cloth against Haleth's neck, washing away the clotted blood there. "We have to step past it, and look to the work before us."

Yates nodded reluctant agreement, and taking a deep breath glanced over his shoulder to where the prince was still talking to the bearded soldier, only now instead of standing still the prince was putting on his riding gloves and nodding quickly as the soldier spoke and pointed toward the deep woods beyond them.

"And what a task we have," he muttered, "I must find a way to get the prince back to the palace and you have dark-magic wounds to bind. I'm not sure which of us has the fiercer battle."

"They're both impossible," Durwin admitted as he laid the cloth aside and picked a bottle of herbs from his medicine box. "But fortunately we're neither of us unarmed."

"I wish you had a potion in there to make a hotheaded child obedient! Oh, curse it, here he comes. Can I be of any further assistance?"

"No, thank you," Durwin shook his head with a slight smile. "Into battle with you, and good luck."

Yates stood; Durwin could hear the mail and metal on the cavalryman's livery jangling as he stood up, and his shadow grew long over Haleth's unconscious form. As Durwin wound the bandage around the young man's neck wound he tilted his head to one side, so he could hear the conversation over his head.

"Your Highness! Are you ready to be escorted back to the palace?"

A pause. Durwin could picture Prince Jasen shaking his head, his mother's determination shining in his eyes. "But they can escort me into the woods if they want. I'm going to get the soldier who was left behind."

"Oh, are you now?" Durwin smiled as he carefully plied the bandage; Yates was a commander, and countering arguments was something he did very well. "You know as well as I do that the king would have my head if I let you go in there. These aren't thorn scratches we're binding here."

"I've had thorn scratches, remember?" the prince rejoined, and suddenly Durwin heard footsteps and the prince's shadow passed over him. He glanced up to see the prince striding with great purpose toward the woods beyond; then more footsteps, quicker, and Yates was at the prince's side, one gloved hand grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to a halt.

"Your Highness!" Yates commanded, his voice sharper now as the prince stopped and turned and they faced each other. "You don't understand, this may be beyond anything your sword or my men can protect you from. Get back to the palace and once we notify the king - "

"You won't hear anything for weeks!" Prince Jasen interrupted, pointing toward the woods, his face bright with anger now. "He doesn't care about this kingdom, he never has. Protecting it is my job and I won't let whatever is in there roam free to menace my people. Not again."

Not again. Durwin secured the bandage around Haleth's neck and motioned to one of the serving girls standing nearby to bring water, and kept his eyes on the prince and Yates as he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck and terrible memories tear at the back of his brain. Not again -

Yates sighed and put his hand on the prince's arm, tightening his grip there. "Your Highness, we don't know what magic we're dealing with here. It may not be the beast who killed your mother, and if it isn't I can't let you just run in there without a spell or enchantress to protect you." The prince snorted and looked away, at some spot far past Durwin's head. "No, not even with my training, I know what you're thinking! Get back to the palace and once we've found you a shield - "

The serving girl was kneeling at Durwin's side now, pouring a cup of water for Haleth. Satisfied that the boy was being tended to, Durwin moved to stand up and give Yates some support when suddenly he heard the prince yell

"Rapunzel!"

and looked up, completely confused as to why the prince would call that name, and why he was running not toward the forest but away from it, past Durwin, as fast as if he was on fire.

Then Durwin looked over his shoulder, understood, and immediately thought, damn.

How had she gotten there? Durwin stood quickly, watched as the prince ran past the soldiers, past the wounded, past everything to get to Rapunzel who had appeared out of nowhere and was now standing at the stone wall that marked the entrance to the cavalry yard, her slipper in one hand. Rapunzel, who looked a little windblown and out of breath but whose entire being seemed to burst into light the instant she locked eyes with the prince and they embraced, with all the ardor and urgency of youth. Rapunzel, who the king didn't even know was there and who was now -

"Damn," Durwin heard beside and glanced to see Yates there, his face lined with the same tense worry that Durwin felt. "Oh, damn."

Durwin's throat tightened, fear slamming at him from all sides, the memories too close and frightening now. Too close! "Assemble that escort, we've got to get them both out of here at once. If the magic is close - "

"Agreed," Yates muttered and immediately left Durwin's side, striding briskly across the field even as the prince was walking back toward the physician, his left arm wrapped tightly around Rapunzel and his right hand clasping hers.

"Of course I'm fine!" the prince was insisting with a smile, and as the pair drew closer Durwin saw Rapunzel's face was wet with worried tears. "Nothing can happen to me as long as I have your love to protect me, you know that! But you ran all the way up the hill, that's amazing!"

"I had to see if you were all right," Rapunzel gulped, her eyes huge as she gazed up at the prince, her hand tightening in his. "I heard – at the palace, they said wolves – big, red - "

Durwin immediately straightened. He hated to interrupt a royal conversation but hating the thought of a panic at the palace more. "Who said that? Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but if word of this has gotten to the palace - "

"Oh - " Rapunzel turned pale and shook her head, her short blonde hair catching the sun's rays as she did so. "No, it wasn't like that, I – it was a page, in the courtyard, talking to the wine steward, warning him. Nobody else knows."

"And nobody else needs to!" the prince insisted, smiling confidently at Durwin before gently taking Rapunzel by the shoulders and turning her to face him. He tilted his head down until she looked up into his eyes and smiled even wider. "Now listen to me, love, I can handle anything that's thrown at me, I was raised to. But I won't put you in danger, not even from a stray bird dropping! I just saw Yates go into the stables, he'll get you an escort to take you back to the palace and I'll be back in time for us to join Kendil on the beach, just like we planned, all right?"

Durwin hoped that the girl would fall into those blue eyes and agree, but instead she shook her head and gripped his sleeve, the fabric bunching up in her delicate fingers.

"I can't," she insisted, and the words sounded like sobs, oddly on the edge of panic Durwin thought. "I – I promised your grandfather, I promised. I won't let her hurt you again!"

Durwin frowned, remembering the conversation he had had with Rapunzel the night before when she had learned about Vashrath and the terrible way Prince Jasen's mother had died. Regretting having frightened the girl in that way, he stepped forward and laid a calming hand on Rapunzel's arm. "Miss, let me assure you, even if there is danger from Vashrath we are more than prepared to meet it. We have - "

"No!" Rapunzel interrupted, turning to Durwin and fixing him with such a look of determined anger that the physician took a step back. "Not her, my mother! My mother." she spat the word, as if it was poison. She looked back up into Prince Jasen's eyes and Durwin marveled at the steel in her voice as she lifted one hand to his face and said, "I will never let her near you again!"

Durwin's mind went back once more to their conversation, to Rapunzel's words about the prince's cuts around his eyes and the cause of them. He was dumbfounded; he had told Rapunzel the story of Vashrath, about her power and cunning, and still to this girl, her own mother was worse. Was worse...

But whatever danger Rapunzel's mother may have posed, it did not seem to frighten Prince Jasen in slightest. He simply smiled again, this time in bemusement, and laid his hand over Rapunzel's as he gazed down at her.

"Darling, as long as you're with me I feel sorry for any witch that sets her sight on either of us!" he said lightly, disarming humor threaded through his voice like spun gold. "So, tell me, what else did you promise my grandfather? Anything we need to work on? Like, maybe tonight?"

Durwin sighed and internally rolled his eyes. Oh, to be young again and able to switch emotions so quickly! "Your Highness..."

A sudden yelp from the direction of the cavalry field's well caused all eyes to turn, and at first Durwin wasn't sure what he was looking at. All he saw was the serving girl standing about a foot from the edge of the well, her posture suggesting she'd seen a huge spider. Then he looked at the well's stone lip and saw Kendil leaning there on his elbows, glancing around until his green-blue eyes spotted the prince and Rapunzel.

"Well, there you two are," the Symdalin remarked archly, pulling himself up a little higher until he could cross his elbows and lean on them. "You could have told me there was a change of plans!"

The prince laughed and turned toward the well, taking a few steps toward it and guiding Rapunzel along with him. "Sorry, Kendil, I just found out myself! I thought Rapunzel was with you this whole time."

"She wasn't," Kendil huffed, shaking his long hair so that drops showered from it and caught in the sun. "And I've been out there baking dry for hours."

"Oh, I am sorry!" Rapunzel exclaimed, stepping forward and laying one hand on Kendil's glistening arm. "I'm afraid there was – can you come out and I'll tell you?"

"Not for a few minutes yet," Kendil replied somberly, although he was smiling. "Still transforming I'm afraid. And even then, well – I'm not wearing any clothes."

Prince Jasen grinned. "Sounds like a party to me!"

"Your Highness," Durwin chided, taking the prince by the arm - partially to turn him toward the cavalry gate, but mostly to block the Symdalin's view of the injured on the cavalry field, which would only lead to more questions and delays. "Kendil, you're just in time, you can join the escort to take both of these children home. We need to - "

But of course Kendil was too observant for such a ruse, and even as Durwin moved those sharp eyes widened, and Kendil leaned over to look past Durwin's arm. "Stars and storms! What happened here?"

"Wolves," Rapunzel blurted, and Durwin noticed that her tone was not fearful but angry – angry, as if she'd been pushed to the brink and had enough. "Red wolves, and - "

Kendil started and he stared at Rapunzel in shock. "What?"

"HELP!"

The cry, sudden and loud from the edge of the woods behind them, made Durwin spin around and reach for his side-dagger at the same time. At first all he saw was some shapeless commotion at the edge of the trees, sun-dappled leaves and grey tree trunks mixing together. Then there was lunging, heaving movement and he saw -

Someone yelled, and then the prince was running past, toward the edge of the forest where a large red wolf was dragging an injured soldier by the leg, its fangs white and terrible against its crimson fur. Even as Durwin stared, momentarily speechless, three more wolves burst from the woods and bounded toward the field of wounded men.

"Your Highness!" Durwin called out, but of course the prince was ignoring him and in ten seconds he would be right in those monsters' midst. Ten seconds and a quick glance toward the stables showed a dozen soldiers running but they were too slow, dammit!

Kendil saw too, of course, and as Durwin turned to him the Symdalin met his eyes and said, "The river runs through the woods, I'll do what I can."

And then he was gone, dropping like a stone into the depths of the well.

Durwin's breath catching in his throat, he turned to Rapunzel who was rooted where she stood, her eyes wide.

He laid a hand on her arm, pressed it until she looked at him – looked but wasn't really seeing, he knew.

"Run to the stables," he ordered, "They're stone and there's a loft, get up there and stay there."

Rapunzel only blinked, and Durwin knew he had no time to see if she minded him or not. Hoping only that he wasn't too late, he turned and ran after the prince.

It seemed like a century – certainly it was longer than that! - and as Durwin ran he had to stop and help some of the injured men get to their feet, and Haleth! Damn, what about him, he wasn't even conscious...but the soldiers would tend to him, they would look after their own and he had to get to the prince, protect the prince, there was no one else close -

Jasen had reached the wolves now, was swinging his broadsword at the one who had the injured soldier's leg, slicing its face with his blade. The wolf snarled and dropped its prey, baring its teeth but not attacking, thank God! His sword still raised in one hand, Jasen wrapped his arms around the injured soldier with his other arm and began dragging him back toward the field and safety.

As quick as lightning the other wolves leaped, knocking the prince to the ground and pinning him there. Dammit, where are those archers! Durwin cursed as he strove to close the distance, hating how his legs ached and his age betrayed him. He was almost there -

WHAM!

Something very large slammed into Durwin's side, so hard his feet left the ground and he flew four feet sideways before bashing into the hard earth. Teeth and claws tore at him, light and dark mixed together and he stabbed upward with all the strength he had, not even knowing where or whether his blade was finding its mark. All he knew was the prince was in danger and he had to get – UP -

Above his head and the rushing of blood through his ears he heard yelling, cursing, growls and barks and somewhere far away, the frantic neighs of frightened horses. Still he could not rise, for even though he felt warm blood dripping from a dozen wounds, his and the wolf's, still the animal would not relent. He pushed with one hand, stabbed with the other, saw red blur go speeding past the edges of his vision and knew the cavalry field was being overrun. Kicked and stabbed, pushed the wolf over only to see another lunge at him and stabbed again, his wife and son's faces flashing before him, black memories of a midnight sky and a terrible storm, the kingdom drowning in death and ruin, stabbed one more time thinking no, curse it, NO -

Suddenly something brushed against his face and Durwin could see daylight above, realized a moment later it was the sleeve of a palace dress and sat up very quickly.

What met his eyes was chaos. Every cavalry officer and soldier was on the field doing battle with what seemed like a hundred red wolves. The air was filled with swinging swords and spraying blood, and the dying screams of man and wolf alike. And just in front of him, hauling a wolf by the scruff of its neck and stabbing it in the throat, was -

"Rapunzel!" Durwin was so startled he yelled the word, but before the breath was out of his mouth the girl dropped the dead beast to the ground and without looking at Durwin ran toward the woods.

"Rapunzel!" Durwin called again, and he didn't understand. He told her to run for the stables and here she was, her dress smeared and stained with blood, her blonde hair streaked with gore, and the knife in her hand -

"Stop!" the physician called, but of course the girl didn't. He blinked and realized that the injured soldier was gone, the prince was gone, and as Rapunzel ran into the woods the wolves followed her, every one as she passed turning and following after her but not bringing her down.

"Rap - " Durwin began to stand but a shadow rushing by him toppled him over again and he lay there, stunned, not comprehending what he was seeing. A wolf had knocked him over, not attacked him but just run right past, what was happening!

Behind him Durwin heard Yates yell something and then soldiers were hurrying toward the woods, joining a dozen that Durwin could see fighting in the trees. As the soldiers approached some of the wolves turned and snarled at them, jumped at the ones who came too close. Between them, and unharrassed, Durwin saw the light slip of Rapunzel's dress shimmer in the sun as she ran into the woods and disappeared.

Amazed, Durwin planted both bloodied hands on the grass and tried to push himself up, felt muscles and bones protest the movement loudly. He sunk back to the earth, tried again, and this time he felt hands on his shoulders. He looked up and saw Yates, his face shining with black matter and sweat.

"The prince - " Durwin gasped, trying to grab Yates' arm as the cavalryman pulled him to his knees.

"Ran into the woods," Yates replied breathlessly with a shake of his head. "The wolves took the soldier."

"No," Durwin fought to breathe, damn it, why did he have to get old! "We've got – to - "

But it was no use. The forest wall was now lined with snarling, lunging wolves who were taking down anyone who got close. After a few more frantic moments two of them turned and ran back into the forest's depths. Then two more. Three more -

Yates straightened, took a deep breath. "Do not give chase!" he commanded. "Let them go!"

Durwin looked up, aghast. "What? Are you mad? The prince is in those woods!"

"Yes, and beyond our help," Yates replied, his dark eyes scanning the trees as the wolves began to depart in greater numbers, howling and snapping as they fled. "You know that as well as I do. Does your physician's chest have protections from magic in it?"

Durwin shrugged. "Yes, of course, but - "

"Then get it and get some on the horses, then we'll send them in," Yates helped Durwin to his feet, his eyes still on the woods where a half-dozen wolves still lingered, growling at the soldiers who stood with swords and crossbows drawn, helpless. "Any of us who goes in there now won't be coming out otherwise."

Durwin stood, ignoring the pain that radiated through his body, taking with gratitude the flask that Yates offered him.

"That's not water," Yates cautioned him.

"Good," Durwin shot back, and tilted the flask to his lips. He drank, swallowed, and handing the flask back said, "Rapunzel went in after him."

"I know."

"Did you see what she had?"

"The water-knife?" Yates tucked the flask back in his belt. "Yes. With a wicked long blade on it."

"And – did you also notice - "

"That the wolves let her go into the forest? Yes."

Durwin paused, peering as hard as he could into the forest, desperate to see the prince, the girl, but there was nothing. Only the faintly bobbing forms of the retreating wolves, and a terrible dread filling his stomach.

"Fetch those magic protections," Yates ordered as he turned away, his voice as hard and flat as Durwin had ever heard it. "And hope that whatever Vashrath wants with either of them, that we're not too late."


	15. Chapter 15

_There's blood on your hands._

The terrain of the woods Rapunzel ran into was not level but slanted downward, and she stumbled a few times as she made her way quickly, quickly, over rocks and through tangles of dead branches, shutting her ears to the howls and barking of the wolves at her heels and closing her eyes to everything but what was in front of her. Everything but

_blood on your hands_

the trees, the light, and the swiftly moving shadows that darted and weaved among the sinister wooden spires that towered over her. She couldn't stop, couldn't even slow down, not when her beloved was somewhere ahead of her maybe needing her help. Not when

_blood_

the water-knife hummed bright and sharp in her fist and her words to King Daenas rang in her ears. She had to find Jasen, had to help him, she'd promised, Jasen never thought of what he was doing, he just jumped, and she was stone and metal and steel and she would fight for him -

\- even though she had no idea where she was going.

The fog that surrounded Rapunzel and turned the forest into murky shadows was growing thicker denser, turning the trees into vague shadows and her breath into clouds of ice. She looked up and saw that the canopy of trees over her head blotted out the sun, making the woods darker and colder the deeper she moved into it. The dead brown leaves and tall tree trunks blended further together into varying shades of gray, as if the air was leeching the very color out every living thing. The wolves howled and barked all around her, harrying her on, and Rapunzel ran as if in a terrifying dream.

Where was her beloved? Did she dare call out for him, or would that put him in more danger? She looked around herself, her heart pounding faster as she pictured her darling running after the wolves and the injured soldier, running into the woods, but where did he go? He couldn't have been that far ahead of her, she should be able to see him. But there were so many shadows, which ones could she trust? Where should she go? She had to find the path -

Something caught Rapunzel's foot and she tumbled headfirst to the forest floor.

She gasped, startled, and braced herself to be overtaken by the wolves running behind her. But that didn't happen. As she curled into the dead leaves Rapunzel heard the harsh thunder of dozens of growling beasts surrounding her but the noise went around her, ahead of her, and faded. She lifted her head to see the muscular backs of the wolves disappearing into the trees. She was alone.

For a moment Rapunzel was afraid to move or breathe. She lay where she was, half-buried in a pile of dry and rotted leaves, her ears straining for any noise; but there was none. Very slowly, she sat up and looked down at her hands.

Her hands – her arms, her dress, in fact most of her clothes – were streaked and clotted with blood and dirt. She still held the hilt of the water-sword in her right hand, although the blade was gone, likely shattered into water droplets when she fell. Her hands were trembling.

_I killed a wolf,_ she thought stupidly, turning the knife-hilt over and and over in her left hand and marveling at the blood on it. Wolf's blood, on the hilt and her hands, on her dress. Rapunzel's gaze travelled to her right hand, saw it was covered with dark blood, and there were long gray hairs mixed with the sticky streaks on her fingers, the palm of her hand.

I killed a wolf, she thought numbly, opening and closing her fingers, surprised that they ached as if she'd been gripping something very tightly. No, it was more than one wolf, I killed...it was hurting the doctor and I…

No. No, that wasn't possible, was it? Not her. Her mother always commented on her timidity, chided her when she cried at the sound of thunder. She couldn't kill anything.

But she had. Rapunzel glanced down at her dress, at the mottled streaks of black and red there. She had killed, without even thinking about it, had slit the wolf's throat from ear to ear. How? She couldn't even watch when her mother slaughtered chickens. She reached down and touched the smears of blood on her dress, spread her hand across the fold and blinked at the stained fabric, fascinated.

Then she looked up and saw the dead body.

It was half-covered with leaves, a young man in a black cavalry uniform lying face-down with his throat torn out. Rapunzel gasped and jumped up, staring in shock at the soldier splayed before her, blood and gore splattered down his back and his arms spread out uselessly.

Rapunzel staggered back against the nearest tree, staring, her entire body gone numb in horror and every brave thought in her head immediately gone. It wasn't the injured soldier or Jasen – but the leather uniform was torn and punctured by dozens of fangs, the hands and head chewed, and it was right in front of her – right there -

_\- don't you know what's out there in the world – princes, yes, but wolves and humans too -_

She couldn't move. Couldn't think, for a moment could only stare at this stark and grisly reminder of what her mother had warned her about. She looked over her shoulder but the way back to the cavalry field was gone; she had run almost an entire league without being aware of it. The woods had swallowed her whole.

Her and Jasen; they were both trapped.

_Foolish girl!_ Rapunzel heard her mother chide. _Spoiled your dress, and what is that play-sword in your hand? Do you even know how to use it? The wolves will tear your arm off before you can wield it, and what will you die for? For an idiot prince who will find another simpering maid to dote on before your bier is cold! Run from this before it destroys you, and you know it will! You have nothing that can defeat it. Run!_

Rapunzel didn't realize she was crying until she took a breath and felt salt tears on her lips, blinked wetness from her eyes. What was she doing? She looked down at the coral hilt in her hand, saw it shaking against her bloodstained fingers. Her mother was right, had always been right, what was she thinking? She had nothing -

Somewhere in the distance, the wolves began howling.

Rapunzel looked up, scanned the trees and the mist, every nerve alert. Shouts came, growls and barks, and she knew her prince was fighting the wolves somewhere in that murk, and help was not coming.

The sounds of battle grew and she suddenly thought of sea serpents and swords, and a prince who was not afraid to run where a giant was loose, and he needed her. She was small and alone but she was there, and she had the water-sword, and – and she couldn't find her way back, so the only way out of the woods was forward.

She took a deep breath and began running – more carefully this time.

The sounds of battle stopped, but Rapunzel heard shouts still carrying through the thick air so maybe it wasn't so bad. The water-sword had lost its blade but still she gripped it and made her way through the deep leaves and around tree roots, her eyes and ears searching for any sign that would lead her to her beloved. Any sign -

There.

The figures were very far ahead of her, and almost Rapunzel couldn't make them out, so faint were the dark outlines against the unnatural mist. But Rapunzel blinked and there they were, a line of red wolves, not facing her her but looking the other way, down the wooded hill. Some of them stood stock-still, others paced back and forth, and none of them had seen her yet. They seemed to have forgotten her; they were very intent on something else.

Rapunzel hurried behind a tree, and raised the hilt of the water-sword in her right hand. She took another deep breath, concentrated, and waved her left hand along the air to make a blade.

Nothing happened.

She blinked, confused. There was plenty of water in the air, the mist was so thick she could see it right in front of her. She must have done the procedure wrong. She tried again.

Nothing.

"Your Highness, please!"

A man's voice, from somewhere beyond where the wolves stood. _Your Highness_ – Rapunzel held her breath and glancing around, spied a tree nearer to where the wolves were and darted to it, careful not to disturb the leaves at her feet. She pressed herself against the bark and froze.

"No!" Came another voice, a voice Rapunzel's heart leapt to hear. "No! Now for the last time I'm telling you – sorry, what's your name again?"

"Gillus, Your Highness."

"Gillus – I'm not leaving you here. I got that first wolf off of you, what's – um, seven, eight, nine...what's thirteen more?"

"Fifteen, sire, two more just showed up."

"Right. Anyway! I'm not scared of them, and you shouldn't be either. We'll get out of this."

"But sire - "

Rapunzel risked another glance around the tree, saw the backs of the wolves more clearly now that she was closer to them. They were standing not in a line but more like a circle, all staring down into a deep swale that dipped into the forest floor.

The voices were coming from that swale.

"Sire, you don't know these wolves," Gillus warned, and Rapunzel heard the crackle of leaves rustling. "They're smart, that one dropped me right here and it didn't even run when you came at it with your sword. Like it had done what it was ordered to and - "

" - and was ready to die," Jasen finished, and the rustling stopped. "I know, Gillus. I know what's going on."

"Then you got to get out of here!" Gillus insisted. "Sire, these red demons mean just one thing, I heard about it since I was little. You're worth ten of me or any of us, you got to go!"

"No," Jasen replied, and there was a calmness to his voice Rapunzel had never heard before. She stared at the coral sword hilt in her hand and listened. "When I was a babe, I had to go. When I was a child, I had to go. But the time for running is over, it ended the second that serpent laid a finger on any of you. I hid when I had to but now that I have not only a kingdom but a woman I love more than there are grains of sand in all the seas in the world, I'm not going to hide anymore. I'm going to face that witch and I'm going to fight her - "

" - and then, you fool - you'll lose everything!"

Rapunzel froze, every atom of her being jolting in shock. A woman's voice, oh God!

_Her mother's voice._

_No, no, no._ She dropped the water-sword hilt without realizing it. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. _Her mother's voice._

The wolves began growling.

Too stunned to think, Rapunzel gripped the tree with both shaking hands and peered around the trunk.

A woman stood at the opposite edge of the swale, a tall woman with long black hair wearing a dark red dress and a hooded cloak. She was staring downward, at Jasen and the soldier Rapunzel guessed, and even from that distance the malice in her eyes was obvious.

_That's not mother_ , Rapunzel thought stupidly, but then the woman began to speak again and the voice was so like her mother's, the disdain and the haughtiness, that the breath caught in Rapunzel's throat. So much alike…

If the prince was afraid of this stranger, he didn't show it.

"There you are!" he called upward. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"So eager to die?" the woman replied as she walked slowly along the swale's edge, the wolves silently following her. She held her hands open and flexed her fingers as if easing an ache out of them. "You should be using your last breaths to strike a bargain with me. Or beg for your life."

"Sire!" Gillus' voice, pained and urgent. "It's that witch from the village. Morrine - "

"No, it isn't," Jasen interrupted, and as he spoke Rapunzel spied a tree closer to the swale and crept to it. The wolves were all intent on what was happening below them, and none of them so much as flicked an ear. "She might call herself that to fool some people but not me. Her name isn't Morrine. It's Vashrath, the Over-Dramatic!"

Rapunzel had just reached the tree, and now she stood still, alarmed. Vashrath! Was that even possible? What could she do? As slowly as she could manage it, Rapunzel peeped around the tree and into the swale below her.

She couldn't see everything – wolves lined the edge of the swale, all growling in a low menacing way as the glared at the prince and the soldier trapped beneath them – but she could see enough. There was Gillus, lying on his back on the right side of the swale propped up on one arm, his trouser leg torn and bloodied and his hair matted with blood. Despite his wounds, however, he had drawn his sword and was staring up at the woman with brave determination.

Next to Gillus stood the prince, his hair disheveled and his clothes stuck with leaves and small bits of twigs as if he'd been tussling on the forest floor. His sword was drawn too, and freshly streaked with blood. Some short distance away lay the very dead body of a red wolf, its throat opened wide and a dark pool spread beneath its carcass. Nobody was looking at it except for Rapunzel; all eyes were on the black-haired woman smiling down into the swale. Jasen hefted his sword from one hand into the other other and waited.

He did not have to wait long. "'Over-Dramatic'!" Vashrath laughed, still flexing her fingers. "Is that your feeble attempt at insulting me? Not that I care in any case."

"Just calling it like I see it," Jasen replied, taking a step closer to Vashrath. "Look, you want to fight me? Go ahead, I've been waiting my whole life to see what I could do against you. But give Gillus safe passage out of these woods, he's nothing to you. I'm the one you want."

"Silly child!" Vashrath spat, standing right at the edge of the swale now. "None of you are anything to me, even you. Just pawns in my game. But special pawns, who will give me the prize I desire."

At these words Gillus uttered a word Rapunzel was pretty sure was a curse, and grimacing mightily rolled to his feet, holding his sword in one bloody hand.

"You won't take the prince," Gillus announced, "If I have to fight the whole lot of you, you won't lay a hand on - "

Swifter than a wink Vashrath raised both hands and lightning shot from her fingertips bright and hot, and Rapunzel ducked behind the tree, shutting her eyes agains the memories because that was just how her mother used her magic – _exactly_ the same -

A moment later Rapunzel peeped around the tree and a think blanket of mist lay at the bottom of the swale. The wind carried it away and the prince still stood there, his face white with shock; and beside him stood Gillus, his arms raised, completely turned to stone.

Vashrath lowered her hands. "I hate empty threats," she said casually.

Rapunzel could only stare at the stone soldier in horror; but Jasen turned to Vashrath and raised his sword.

"Coward!" He challenged. "Come down here and face me! You want a fight, I'll give you one."

"I'd love to," the witch purred, gathering up her blood-red skirts as she slowly walked to the edge of the swale, "But I promised your death to someone else. He's a simple fool, but he's made it easier for me to get what I want, and for that I'm going to let him slit your throat."

"You want the kingdom," Jasen snarled, and turning the sword in hand shook his head. "I won't let you take it."

"You can't stop me," Vashrath shot back, and now Rapunzel saw a shadow form behind the witch, a shadow that solidified and became a tall man clad in a foreigner's clothes, his shirt torn open and drenched in blood and his face a featureless gray with two black pits for eyes. Where his heart should be there was nothing but a huge gaping hole.

Jasen took a step toward Gillus, his sword raised as if to protect the stricken soldier, but before he could move another inch Vashrath waved her hand and thorn vines sprang from the earth, darting out of the dead leaves and twining themselves quickly around the prince's wrists, legs and neck.

Jasen grunted in surprise and pain, but gripped his sword tighter and stood his ground.

"This - thorn thing is getting – really _old_ ," he gasped through clenched teeth. "Don't you witches – ever hassle any other plants?"

Vashrath smiled. "You are your grandfather's spawn, that's clear enough. I'll make sure there's enough of you left for him to find when this is over."

Rapunzel saw Jasen's shoulder round in fury.

"You're no match for King Daenas," he snarled as he shook his head. "He'll _destroy_ you."

"Oh, I'm sure he wants to," Vashrath nodded as she once more lifted her hands. "That's why I froze the stream that runs down this hill – magically of course, so his little army couldn't interrupt my morning. But don't worry, I'll thaw the water just in time for my wolves to tear their throats out – starting with your filthy little Symdalin friend, Kendil."

Jasen lunged – or tried to; Rapunzel flinched, hearing fabric and flesh tear as he leaped forward, a curse word she'd never heard before roaring from his lips. Vashrath started a little and gasped, then jabbed both hands forward and a red burst of light blazed forth, straight into the swale.

Rapunzel hunched over behind the tree, covering her face with her hands, too horrified for a moment to look. Then she heard a low, distant grunt, and peeked around the tree to see Jasen lying motionless at the bottom of the swale, still wrapped in the thorn vines, and Vashrath looking at the tall shadowed figure and shaking her head. In the distance, the village clock chimed three-quarters past ten.

"No, I didn't kill him," the witch said, her tone suddenly bored as she waved to the unconscious prince. "I wish I could! That brat's got too much sea blood in him for my liking. But he'll be dead soon anyway, and at least I won't have to waste my powers to do it. Get down there and fetch him, I need you to carry him to the edge of the woods by the thistle patch by the time that clock strikes the hour."

Rapunzel watched the heartless figure edge its way down the swale toward the prince, her mind spinning. What could she do? She had no weapon, and the Symdalins were not coming…

"Hurry up!" Vashrath ordered. "I have a personal matter to attend to, once the prince is dead."

The figure reached down and scooped the prince up into its arms, the thorn vines snapping out of the ground and sticking in its blood-soaked clothes as it did so. It lifted its gray and featureless face to Vashrath and grunted.

"Oh, don't you start in about the thorns too!" Vashrath griped, and turning her back on the swale walked away into the mist.

As soon as she moved, the wolves lining the swale followed her, rustling the dead leaves with their movement and leaving Rapunzel alone. For a few moments she stood behind the tree and pressed her face into it, her widened eyes watching Vashrath and her prince fade into the unnatural mist, her heart pounding furiously in fear and frustration.

What could she do? The cavalry yard was too far away, she was alone, and without Kendil and the others to help her fight -

Rapunzel looked down at her hand, at the hilt she was still gripping, Vashrath's words echoing in her head.

_I froze the stream that runs down this hill, magically of course -_

The pommel of the water sword looked very big. And it held magic too...

And almost before she knew what she was doing, Rapunzel picked up her skirts and ran to find that stream, before it was too late.


	16. Chapter 16

Ormand paced his horse back and forth on the grassy patch of ground at the bottom of the hill, frowning in impatience and squinting every so often at the stone walls and roofs of the village behind him. Finally he heard distant clock chimes. Counted the tolling of the bells, and snorted.

"Three-quarters past the hour," he muttered to himself. "Finally!"

With that, he urged his horse up the hill to begin the journey to the edge of the woods at the top, to meet Morrine and get this adventure over with.

He was calm as he rode, for which he congratulated himself. He knew a lesser man would have been too unnerved by the witch's bloodthirstiness to continue as her ally, would have been too frightened of her magic to go through with the plans that were now in place.

_But I am not a lesser man_ , Ormand announced to himself, lifting his chin with pride and drawing his shoulders back even though it was still early morning and the slope was deserted. He was disappointed that there was no one to see how bravely he rode. Such courage deserved admiration, he thought, not silence.

Then he remembered that he was about to kill the prince, and decided that maybe he was better off being unobserved after all.

The top of the hill became visible and Ormand noticed that it was wreathed in a strange mist, even though the sun was shining brightly in the mid-morning sky. Morrine's work no doubt, and did he hear wolves howling?

Damn, he thought, and shivered, shifting uncomfortably as he thought of the blood-flecked sword he carried strapped to his belt. Damn that witch anyway! If only he'd had more support at the palace – or if his luck had gone better – he wouldn't need witchcraft to get what was rightfully his. Other men seized thrones without having to work so hard at it. Answer a riddle, kill a giant, break some spell and the crown's all yours. None of this casting your lot with a crazy woman who would probably turn a man into a frog or a rock once she was done with him. It was dangerous, that's what it was, and for all his ambition Ormand did not like courting danger.

Well, there was only one thing to do. Put a sword's point between the black-haired hag's shoulder blades as soon as he had what he wanted. Yes. He was not a lesser man, and he could do that. He would do that. Once the prince was dead, he could do whatever he wanted.

With that confident thought, Ormand continued his journey until he reached the top of the hill.

He had not, until that moment, given any thought to what he would find when he reached that summit. He had only been on that slope at the back of the woods that edged the cavalry grounds a few times, and never for long. The king had never cared for it, and it was not remarkable in any way – just a hill with woods on one edge, a stream running down the rocks on the other, and the sea-kingdom beyond in the distance. Nothing special at all.

So for a moment, sitting there on his horse surrounded by that strange fog, Ormand blinked at the formless gray in front of him and frowned, for he could not see anything at all.

Then, through the dense fog, he heard the village clock chime ten bells; and at the same moment a wind blew from nowhere and the mist lifted a little, and there was Morrine.

And a half-dozen of the largest red wolves Ormand had ever seen.

"Oh!" he exclaimed involuntarily, and his horse skittered back two steps. He stared.

The wolves bared their teeth and growled at Ormand as they prowled back and forth among the slender trees at the edge of the woods. Morrine stood in the middle of them, still wearing her hooded cloak and looking up at Ormand in what he thought was a very smug and disrespectful way, as if she'd won some argument he didn't even know they'd had. He didn't like it.

"Well, _there_ you are," Morrine said in a snide tone, turning back toward the woods and waving her left hand at something as Ormand approached. "I've kept my end of the bargain. Take your kill and get it over with."

Ormand frowned, not understanding what Morrine was talking about. He looked to her left but saw nothing but the mist and two of the wolves skulking at the edge of the trees. Then the wolves moved away, and he saw someone moving toward him.

The prince! Ormand jumped in alarm and gripped his sword. But it was not the prince. It was – was -

Ormand stared. It was some thing, that might have been human once but now resembled nothing more than a tall shriveled piece of moving fog, all thin wrinkled limbs wrapped in decaying finery. The thing had no face, only a hollowed-out black space where its eyes and mouth ought to be, and Ormand realized he could not hear it moving through the leaves, even though it stirred them as it walked.

The prince was carried in the things arms, obviously unconscious and wrapped loosely in thorn vines that trailed the ground like stabbing veins. But Ormand only glanced at that, because his eyes lit on the massive black-red hole in the middle of the thing's chest and he stared at it open-mouthed.

_What in the world_ , he thought stupidly as he stared, his joy at killing the prince replaced by a sudden sick dread that froze his blood and rendered him unable to move a muscle. _What am I LOOKING AT -_

Somewhere to his left Morrine laughed – an ugly sound, Ormand realized – and suddenly fingers snapped, loudly. Morrine said something to the creature and it nodded its head once, slowly, shuffled forward, and without ceremony dumped the prince's thorn-twined body on the ground in front of Ormand's horse.

Ormand's brain was swarming like confused hornets; he couldn't think. He kept staring at the creature, confounded. _That's the traveller whose heart she took, he thought. Shit. Shit -_

"Well?" came Morrine's voice, sharp-edged and irritated.

Ormand's eyes darted from the prince to the – thing's – face. Or, approximation of a face. How did it see when it didn't have any eyes?

" _Ormand!"_

At Morrine's scold the steward blinked, took a deep breath and shook his head rapidly, cursing himself. _Don't be afraid of that thing, it can't hurt you any more than she can. Focus, Ormand! The kingdom is almost yours._

Ormand took another deep breath, squared his shoulders and sat up in his saddle so he could tower over Morrine. He looked down at her imperiously and frowned.

"What did you do to him?" he asked gruffly, hoping Morrine would recognize the authority in his voice. "He looks like he's already dead."

"Oh, don't be a fool," Morrine replied impatiently, turning away to face the woods as she spoke. "And hurry up, I have other work to do."

Ormand glanced at the back of Morrine's head. She had turned her back, and her disrespect vexed him. "Well, don't let me detain you. I don't need a woman's help to do this."

Morrine snorted, still not looking at him. "Oh, don't you! The mist and my wolves are the only things keeping the cavalry in the woods from finding you, and they're not far away. But if you don't need a woman's help..."

She lifted her fingers and made a show of preparing to snap them, and Ormand's blood froze. "Wait - "

Morrine turned her head just enough to glance slyly in Ormand's direction, her expression self-satisfied and cold. Then she lowered her hand and turned away again, and Ormand hated her intensely.

_Right between the shoulder blades_ , Ormand promised himself, smiling in anticipation of the witch's death. But, first things first. He dismounted, and taking two quick steps forward he lifted the sword and pressed the point to Prince Jasen's chest.

The gray thing grunted.

Ormand lifted his eyes and scowled in the thing's direction. Then he looked down again, annoyed.

"Morrine, can't you shut that thing up?" he grumbled. "It wants the sword back, well, it can't have it. That monster should be happy I don't just lop off its head."

The gray thing grunted again, a little louder, and Morrine said something to it in low tones Ormand couldn't make out except for _there's a girl_ and _find her_. After she spoke the thing nodded and with a final glare at Ormand – or as near a glare as could be given by a ghoul with no eyes – it turned, glided into the woods like a swift-moving storm cloud, and disappeared.

_A minute._ Ormand turned back to the unconscious prince and smiled in anticipation as he pressed the point of the sword harder and felt it break through the leather of the prince's jacket. Yes, a minute's worth of bleeding out and the sea kingdom would be his.

The morning sun was at Ormand's back, causing him to cast a huge, long shadow over the prince's helpless form. _I look like a giant_ , Ormand thought proudly, admiring how large and strong he looked, even if it was only in silhouette. And nobody denied giants anything...they trembled in fear to behold them...

Then Ormand glanced at the prince's face, pale and scratched, his blond hair fringed over his closed eyes, half-turned away from him.

Ormand stopped. Frowned, and stepped back.

"No," he shook his head, looked up at Morrine. "No, this isn't right."

Morrine turned around, glaring. "What? You're moral all of a sudden?"

"No, it's not that, it's - " Ormand gestured at the prince's face. "I want him to _look at_ me, dammit. He never respected me, I want to see fear and respect in his eyes when I kill him. I'm owed that."

Morrine sighed hugely and rolled her eyes and waved one hand in the air. Instantly the vines around the prince tightened, then tendrils shooting into the ground and anchoring there. Then, in two wide steps she was at Jasen's side and kicked him savagely in the ribs. Jasen shouted in surprise and his eyes flew open.

Ormand jumped back, alarmed, his sword flying up in self-defense, absurd of course because the prince was bound with thorns and rooted to the ground, and probably couldn't even see him except as a big black shadow eclipsing the sun. But still -

\- still, what if the blow didn't kill the prince? What if he lived and told the king Ormand tried to kill him? Damn! The moment had come and Ormand found himself unable to move, inexplicably terrified by the reality of having to actually kill the prince.

_You fool!_ Ormand cursed himself. _Now's your chance, you might never get another. Plunge the sword into his heart and see the fear in his eyes. Do it!_

So Ormand stepped forward and once again lowered the blade, pushing its tip against Prince Jasen's chest. It wasn't easy; now that he was awake the young man was writhing angrily against the coils of the thorn ropes, twisting his body and gritting his teeth as the barbs cut into him. He glanced in Ormand's direction, once, but there was no recognition or fear in his eyes. Instead the prince seemed to be trying to look over his head, back into woods at something. He ignored Ormand completely.

Ormand huffed. This was not how he pictured this scene playing out! He pushed the blade of the sword forward a little.

_Look at me, you little whelp!_ He thought angrily. _Damn it, you fool, I'm trying to kill you! Look at me!_

But the prince refused to obey him. Ormand could swear he heard the young man growling as he fought against his bonds and dug his heels into the earth trying to free himself, and at the time struggling to look at – whatever he was trying to look at, behind him.

"Vashrath?" the prince called out. "Vashrath? Hey! Come back here and fight me, you coward! Hey!"

Vashrath? Ormand thought, perplexed. He glanced up at Morrine and saw that she had taken a few steps back, into the woods, and was watching the prince through narrowed eyes.

And she was right in the path of whatever the prince was trying so desperately to look at.

"What are you waiting for?" the witch hissed impatiently, her voice pitched low for some reason as she continued backing into the woods. "Get it over with. Now!"

But Ormand found he couldn't move. Why was the prince calling out for Vashrath? That serpent was long dead, not part of the story at all. What was going on? He looked at Morrine, confused.

"Kill him!" Morrine snarled, raising one fist while her eyes blazed with a fury Ormand had never seen. "Now, or I'll unbind those ropes and let him put an end to you instead!"

Startled by Morrine's anger, Ormand gulped and looked down at the prince. The thorn ropes had tightened, pinning him to the earth so he couldn't budge, but his chest was heaving with exertion and he was still looking back toward the woods, straining to break those bonds, his full attention on the woods and the witch. He paid no attention to Ormand. That made the steward furious.

_Get it over with_ , Morrine said. Yes. Get it over with, kill the prince, claim the kingdom, and it will all make sense. Ormand would have what he wanted at last. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The sun grew stronger at his back as he raised his sword, and just for a moment – less, an instant – Ormand saw what he had always dreamed of, his arm holding a strong blade and the prince helpless at the other end of it. The prince turned his way and his eyes widened as Ormand's shadow loomed over him, and Ormand met that gaze triumphantly, smiling as he pressed the blade once more against that blood-flecked shirt, thought _Finally, finally -_

But damn! There was no fear staring back at him, not all the quivering terror he was counting on seeing in the young prince's eyes. What was in those depths instead? Defiance. Defiance! Even bound and helpless, defiance, as if that would make a difference…

The clock in the valley below them began to chime the hour. One bell. Two. Three...

Ormand shook his head, thankful that he would always remember exactly what time he killed the prince and brought his dreams to fruition. "Fool!" he spat, and leaned into the sword.

The prince shifted his weight and gritted his teeth.

"Not - as big a fool - as you," he gasped.

Outraged – and desperate to shut the prince up – Ormand planted his feet to deal the fatal blow.

The prince screamed.

But no. No, that wasn't the prince, he was still glaring at Ormand, he hadn't moved…

Another scream pierced the air. No, not a scream. A roar.

_That came from the woods,_ Ormand thought in confusion. Shocked, he lifted his head and looked.


	17. Chapter 17

_Ten minutes earlier…_

Rapunzel tore her way through the misty forest, hardly paying attention to the dead branches that caught her dress, and the rocks and roots that tried to trip her up at every step. Her heart held only one hope, that she could find the river and help before Vashrath killed the prince. Her mind echoed with the witch's words

_I need you to carry him to the edge of the woods by the thistle patch by the time that clock strikes the hour_

and she knew she didn't have much time until the clock chimed – minutes! Only minutes to find the river, free Kendil and the others, and get to the edge of the woods.

But she had no idea where the river was.

She slowed down, her steps crunching loudly against the dead leaves as she glanced wildly around in desperation. Every direction looked the same! Dead leaves, gnarled ghostly-looking trees, and the same eerie mist hung over everything, making the forest seem to fade into white nothingness all around her. And there was no sound, even the birds kept their silence. She wouldn't even be able to locate the frozen river by the sound of rushing water. What was she going to do?

And Vashrath! Rapunzel sank to her knees, overcome with the realities swarming around her. Vashrath had her beloved, Vashrath who killed Queen Nimianae and almost destroyed the whole kingdom! This witch was more powerful than her mother – much more powerful, and Rapunzel had lived her whole life thinking there was no one in the world more powerful than that.

_She turned that soldier to stone. She commanded those thorn vines to rise. She might have even been the one who imprisoned us in the dovecote! What can I do? What do I have that can even fight that?_

Rapunzel began breathing in quick, frightened pants, her thoughts darting about like startled rabbits inside her head. She looked down at the water-sword in her hands, and it was shaking. She was shaking.

_I can't do this!_ She realized, panicking. _I can't fight the most powerful witch ever! I can't find the river! I can't even run, there's nowhere I could go if I fail my darling, everywhere I go he'll still be dead. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?_

Her panting became sobs, huge, wracking sobs that shook her body and felt like they were tearing her apart. She couldn't fail now, she couldn't! But she was lost and alone and had nothing to help her and for a bright horrible moment her mother was right, she wasn't safe and she would never be safe because she hadn't known what dangers were in the world and now she knew and she was helpless – helpless -

_Why are my knees wet?_

Rapunzel opened her eyes.

She was kneeling in a mass of wrinkled, dead leaves, so think they covered the ground six inches deep. But underneath that -

Suddenly curious, Rapunzel pocketed the water-knife and began pushing the leaves away, digging until her hands touched cold earth.

Cold damp earth. Damp, when everything else was dry -

Rapunzel lifted her hands away, saw that clumps of gray-brown mud clung to her fingers, clotted on her hands. She looked down and saw not dust but mud – ice-cold mud, and some of it had soaked onto the parts of her dress that touched the ground. Mud!

With a startled cry Rapunzel cleared the rest of the leaves away and began frantically digging into the earth, wincing as her hands froze against the icy loam and snagged on twigs and small tree roots. The hole she clawed out became six inches deep, then twelve, all freezing mud and where there was mud there had to be – _had to be_ -

Rapunzel stopped digging and withdrew her hands, watching the hole with desperate focus, scarcely daring to breathe. She had seen animals dig holes in the ground around the tower, about a foot down and then they'd stop and wait, because in a minute or two the hole would fill with -

Water.

There wasn't much – not even enough to fill a thimble – but as Rapunzel watched the bottom of the muddy hole water began seeping through the muck, dirty and brown but it would work. She would make it work. As soon as she saw the glimmer of daylight against the water's surface Rapunzel held the water-knife over the hole and ran her hand quickly over it.

At first she saw nothing and her heart seized with terror; but then she blinked and saw a handful of sluggish, heavy drops pulling toward the blade, quivering as if they were struggling to do the knife's magic bidding.

Gasping with relief, Rapunzel held the blade lower and waved her hand again, watching as several more water drops jumped from the muddy water to form – well, it certainly wasn't a blade, it was barely even a straight line! But it was all she needed. She took a deep breath and prayed that King Daenas' magic was strong.

"Point me to the river!" she begged.

The hilt tugged in her hand, the water-drops shivering up the length of the wobbly blade.

Rapunzel frowned, tightened her grip. "Please! Point me to the river, hurry!"

Another tug, stronger, and the blade blurred and then formed a zig-zag. But the hilt didn't move.

Rapunzel looked down, and her mouth dropped open. She was gripping the hilt so tightly her knuckles were white!

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, sorry - " She loosened her fingers.

The water drops bobbed once, joyfully Rapunzel imagined, and then the hilt spun in her hand and stopped. It pointed directly to her right.

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, and she wasn't even sure who she was talking to. She gathered up her mud-drenched skirts and took off running.

It felt like forever when she ran. She knew she was moving but her legs were leaden, the trees blurred together, the murky air closed around her like a tightening fist. She stumbled over the uneven earth, stumbled and fell a few times, rose again. The dead leaves at her feet chattered like dry bones as she kicked them aside, her heart pounding with frantic fear that threatened to push up her throat and strangle her.

Rapunzel had been afraid before, run in fear before, but terror of a giant was nothing compared to what she felt now. Death was running after her and she had to be faster, had to run. Had to _run_ -

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Everywhere around her there was nothing but white. The evil mist now hung so thick that she could see nothing, not a tree or rock or river. She looked down at the water-sword but the blade was gone. She had been going in the direction it had pointed, but what if she'd veered off the path? What if she was lost?

For a moment Rapunzel stood still and looked around herself, opened her eyes wide and could not see six inches in front of herself. There was no noise but the beating of her heart and her own breath. _Don't panic_ , She heard Jasen's voice in her head command her, _don't run, stay still! Listen!_

She listened. Held her breath, listened again. Nothing -

**thump**

Rapunzel gasped, turning her head sharply. Was that - ?

*thump thump*

She sprang forward, following that sound, heard it grow louder as she ran. Something thumping against a solid object, and voices, muffled and angry, she heard voices -

Without warning her feet slipped from under her and she fell hard against the earth. No – not earth, something cold and flat and smooth. Rapunzel sat up very fast and looked down.

She was sitting on top of the frozen river; and looking back up at her was Kendil, eyes wide and hands splayed against the underside of a very thick layer of clear black ice.

"Oh!" Rapunzel cried, and jumped to her feet. There were other Symdalins beneath the ice too, she couldn't see how many but they were all pounding on the underside of the enchanted ice, trying to break through. Rapunzel could feel the force of their pounding through her stockinged feet; but there was no way to get through.

Taking a deep breath, Rapunzel fell to her hands and knees, hoping Kendil could see her and understand what she was trying to do. There was no way to know for sure, and no time to try to explain. She picked a spot in the ice where no Symdalin was near and could get injured, and gripping the water sword as tightly as she could in her right hand, she slammed the pommel into the ice.

Nothing happened, at first, except the Symdalins near that spot started a bit and looked up; Rapunzel decided they couldn't see her through the haze of the ice and slammed the pommel down again, as hard as she could. It didn't feel like she had any strength at all, but an image came to her mind of her beloved in danger, unconscious and tied down, and with an angry cry she lifted the pommel and

SLAM

brought it down again and

SLAM

she loved him, he loved her and she would

SLAM

NOT let anyone hurt him again, not her mother

SLAM

or another witch

SLAM

or any magic that existed, never again!

SLAM

The ice cracked.

Rapunzel heard the noise, like china breaking on a wooden floor, and looked down to see a jagged line in the ice. Kendil rushed to that crack, followed by the others, and as she took a step back Rapunzel wiped the hair out of her eyes and lifted the water-sword again to plunge it down and break the ice further -

Something grabbed her around the waist and suddenly she was flying through the air, and landed roughly in the dead leaves. Stunned, she felt for the water sword, found it, and looked up.

The faceless gray man loomed over her, arms outstretched, big as a mountain.

Rapunzel stared, open-mouthed. At the monster's back she could hear the desperate thumps and cracks of the merfolk trying to break through the ice, echoing through the mist-enshrouded forest like a nightmare. She sat up slowly, stared as the monster approached, felt very small and afraid.

The monster growled from somewhere deep in its ruined body, raised its hands. Rapunzel raised the water-sword hilt, tried with everything she possessed but no blade appeared. She began shaking.

_No, don't give up. Jasen wouldn't, he didn't, not even when he was blind._ Swallowing hard, she lifted the hilt as if a mighty sword was at the end of it. She stared into the figure's massless face.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said.

The monster took a step forward, raised its arms a little more. Rapunzel planted her feet defiantly. Vowed that no matter what no one would say she was a coward. She pointed the hilt of the sword at the monster's chest.

The monster flinched, and stepped back.

"Ow," it said.

Rapunzel blinked. Frowned. That didn't sound like something a monster would say. She lifted the sword again.

The monster took another stop back, lifted one hand and tried to cover the large, jagged hole in its chest. "Don't."

Rapunzel frowned deeper. Behind the monster, she heard loud cracking noises. The Symdalins were breaking through.

But the monster – the voice sounded thick and deep, like it was coming from under mud, but also – frightened? Or sad? Or maybe in her terror she was imagining things.

She did not realize she had lowered the water-sword hilt until the monster pointed at it with one shriveled hand.

"Not mine," it gurgled.

Rapunzel had never been more confused, but...she shook her head. "No, it's – it's mine. It was a gift."

The monster sighed – sighed! - and looked down at its side. It was then Rapunzel noticed that it wore a sword belt, but the sword and scabbard were gone.

"Someone took your sword?" she guessed.

"Yes," the monster sighed sadly. "Took it. Mine."

"Who took it?" Rapunzel asked. Beyond them, the cracking grew louder.

The monster looked at her, and if a faceless mass could have eyes that narrowed in anger, she knew that's what she would be looking at.

" _Witch_ ," the monster growled.

"Oh," Rapunzel said, and thought very fast. "Help me save the prince and I'll get your sword back for you."

CRRAAACCCK!

As the monster staggered aside, clearly startled by the noise, the ice on the river heaved aside and a dozen Symdalins erupted out of the river, dripping wet and carrying all manner of swords and shields, Kendil at the lead.

"Rapunzel!" he exclaimed, and ran to her immediately, as if there wasn't a giant faceless man standing right in their midst. "Did you find - "

"Yes," Rapunzel exclaimed, "He's at the northern edge of the woods – Vashrath has him, we have to hurry, she's going to kill him!"

Kendil nodded, but winced, and as Rapunzel watched the other Symdalins began to pant and bend over in the thick mist, as if they were in pain. "What is it?"

"The witch's mist," Kendil gasped, "It's – not easy for us to breathe - "

Rapunzel watched helplessly, unsure what to do. "Oh, I - "

There was a loud roar at her back, and as Kendil gripped her shoulders and drew her to his side protectively she turned to see the faceless man, arms outstretched, and the air around him was absolutely clear. It was as if he'd frightened the evil fog away. He looked at Rapunzel.

"Get sword back?" he snarled.

She nodded. "I promise."

The monster roared again, and turning began to walk north. The mists parted in front of him like waves before a ship.

Kendil gripped Rapunzel tighter. "You'll explain later, after we save Jasen?"

"As much as I understand myself."

"Let's go."

They moved forward, Rapunzel and the faceless man and the Symdalins, running as fast as they could through the dark woods and the parting mists. As they ran Rapunzel began to hear another noise behind her, like rolling thunder; heard shouts and yells and realized that Captain Yates and the cavalry had found the clearing in the mists too, and were right behind them. All of them, running forward to save the prince and the kingdom, and she felt very strange, as if she was in one of the fairy tale books she read as a child, and dreamed about. She followed the faceless man and Kendil and the others followed her, the faceless man roaring the mists apart as the clock in the kingdom below began to chime to ten.


	18. Chapter 18

Ormand continued to stare into the woods, the blade of his sword poised over the bound prince's heart, as the strange roaring sound continued to echo through the thick white mist that hung among the trees.

He glanced over at Morrine and saw that she had turned her eyes and was staring into the forest too, her hands paused in the air as if she was about to cast a spell and had forgotten how to do it, or she was trying to hold back something she couldn't touch. The red wolves around her stood motionless, their ears pricked up and their hackles raised.

"What _is_ that?" Ormand asked, a little thrown by that unearthly sound. "Morrine? What is - "

"Nothing," the witch replied, but too quickly, and she didn't take her eyes from the woods.

Instantly Ormand's hackles were up, and the sword wavered from the prince's chest as he straightened and gave Morrine a suspicious glare. "Codswallop! That sounds like a - "

At that moment two things happened, one right on top of the other.

Morrine suddenly vanished, and in her place coiled a red serpent taller than the tops of the trees;

and with a huge roaring sound the mists in the woods parted and thundering it through it came the witch's faceless monster, with the prince's girl Rapunzel, an army of bristling Symdalins and the palace cavalry pounding hard on its heels.

"Bloody hell!" Ormand exclaimed, all thought of killing the prince forgotten. He dropped the sword, jumped backward, then turned and looked for his horse

It was already galloping in terror down the hill.

_SHIT_ , Ormand thought, and gave chase after the animal. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran, certain he was doomed.

But no – the serpent was uncoiling itself across the border of the woods, cutting off the army and standing between it and the prince. And, more importantly Ormand realized, between the army and _him_.

_Run for it._

That was the last coherent thought Ormand had. After it fled his brain, he had only one ambition: to outpace his horse to the bottom of the hill and safety. And that's exactly what he did.

Rapunzel heard the clock bells chime, ran at the faceless man's heels and clutched the water-sword tight in her hand, hoping she was not too late.

She couldn't see much; only the shadow of the faceless man in front of her, beyond that a rapidly retreating sheet of white mist and the outlines of trees.

But she could hear everything, why was that? The thunder of the horses' hooves behind her, the rattle of the Symdalins' swords and shields, the deep rasping breath of the faceless man as he lumbered forward, the mist shivering and shrinking away from him like a live thing. Her heart, pounding in her chest as she thought of her beloved bleeding and dead – no -

Then, suddenly, something very large and dark loomed in front of all of them and Rapunzel skidded to a halt.

The faceless man halted too, right at the edge of the forest where the mist was melting away. He stepped backward, arms spread out as if to protect everyone behind him, but Rapunzel couldn't see what the thing in front of her even was. It was large, and oval, and blocked out the sunlight. She looked up, squinted; still did not understand.

Kendil appeared at her side, then stepped in front of her also, lifting his sword as he let out a curse in Symdalin. "Rapunzel, get back," he whispered, "Back to the cavalry, behind them if you can, hurry."

"What? No," Rapunzel replied, and tried to move around Kendil but it was no use. He stepped sideways to block her, which was very irritating. "We have to get past this thing, find Jasen and Vashrath - "

" _That's_ Vashrath," Kendil snapped, and pointed with his sword at the large dark thing.

Rapunzel shook her head, not understanding. Then she did, and froze.

" _Hurry,_ " Kendil whispered urgently, and raised his sword.

Vashrath struck.

Everything happened so fast, there was no time for Rapunzel to move or think. One second she was looking up at a serpent, impossibly large, big enough to block out the sun and sky, its head bobbing back and forth once, twice -

Then the head shot forward and Kendil leaped to meet it, shouting something Rapunzel didn't understand, his sword flashing in the morning sun. In the same moment another shadow quickly moved in front of her and she felt herself being picked up again, and she knew what was happening. She fought against it, twisting and turning in the faceless man's arms.

"Put me down!" she ordered, watching helplessly as a mass of shapes ran past her and the air was suddenly filled with the growl and bark of wolves, the shouts of Symdalins and men, and the cries and hoofbeats of cavalry horses. Mist and blood and wind swirled around her and her feet couldn't touch the ground. "Please! I have to - "

It was alarming, how fast the faceless man moved, as if he was flying rather than bound to the earth. After a moment Rapunzel ceased struggling and simply hung on for dear life, watching helplessly as the cavalry and Symdalins tangled together with the wolves and the giant serpent until she couldn't tell which was which.

And she could do nothing! The trees blurred together as the faceless man ran along the edge of the forest, and Rapunzel drew a breath to ask him to please _put her down -_

Then he abruptly turned, and Rapunzel realized they were moving down the hill, away from the woods and the serpent. The serpent hadn't noticed and was still writhing in battle with Kendil and the others.

"What - " Rapunzel breathed, but before she could utter another word the faceless man dropped her to the ground.

"Ouch!" Rapunzel exclaimed as something sharp stuck her in the leg. She looked down and saw a thorn vine had snagged her dress -

\- and next to it, a pair of blue eyes was staring at her in wide-eyed surprise.

"Oh!" Rapunzel exclaimed, and jumped back. She was looking at Jasen, lying on his back and almost completely hidden by a net of thorn vines holding him fast to the earth.

"Rapunzel!" Jasen gasped, struggling and wincing as the thorns tore his skin. "What are you doing? Get out of here! Grrr - "

"No," Rapunzel insisted, and thought quickly. There was no water nearby. She pocketed the hilt of the water sword and wrapped both hands around the vines holding her beloved down. Ignoring the pain that lanced up both arms she pulled with all her strength. They didn't budge.

"Rapunzel, _run_ ," Jasen was panting now, and as Rapunzel looked at him she saw his eyes look upward. He saw the serpent too, and went pale. "You've got to - "

"Not without you!" Rapunzel cried, and pulled on the vines again, but nothing was happening.

"Yates will get me," Jasen replied, "He'll get me, don't worry, just – you've got to get out of here - "

"No," Rapunzel cried again, but she was weeping now and the word came out a half-formed sob. She rose to her knees and looked around frantically, saw a sword lying on the grass nearby and grabbed it with both bleeding hands. She jammed the point of the sword at the base of the nearest vine but it didn't break; instead it seemed to tighten further.

"Rapunzel!" The prince gasped, and when she met those eyes they were pleading and serious at once. "Please, love, listen to me. This is magic, _big_ magic, we can't fight it ourselves, we don't have the...I don't know, the _stuff_. Get down the hill, get my grandfather, he's – he's done this before, he'll help, but you've got to get out of here - "

"No!" Rapunzel pulled the sword out of the earth and held it with both hands, and she was sobbing now.

"Please!" Jasen begged. The sounds of battle were louder now, and Rapunzel looked up and only saw the serpent coiling back and forth, the wolves growling and yelping and the yells of men and horses and Symdalins, horrible sounds she couldn't block out and there was so much pain -

She looked back down at Jasen, and his eyes were huge. A single drop of blood slid down his cheek.

" _Please -_ " he whispered. "I lost my mother, I can't lose you too."

Rapunzel stared at him, felt oddly light and detached from herself. Thought, _I'm dreaming_. She dropped the sword.

"Grrrrrrrr."

Startled by that unexpected sound, Rapunzel glanced to her left. The faceless man was still standing there, arms at its side and staring at her. She couldn't think. She looked at him.

"I - " she took a breath, then a step backward. "I have to – don't hurt him, please? I have to – go - "

The faceless man pointed down. "Sword."

Rapunzel stopped. Blinked. Looked down at the sword.

"That's your sword?"

"Rapunzel!" Jasen said.

The faceless man grunted.

"Oh!" Rapunzel quickly knelt down and picked the sword up from the grass.

Jasen looked at her through the net of thorns and sighed. "Can't help noticing you not running away."

Rapunzel shook her head, there was no time to explain. She stood and handed the sword to the faceless man.

"Oooof!" the man said as it took the hilt, and it was an odd, happy sound.

"Ra _pun_ zel," the prince said.

Rapunzel nodded, took a few steps down the hill.

"I have to go," she said, and pointed to Jasen. "Protect him, please? I'll be – back - "

The faceless man looked down at Jasen, then up at Rapunzel. He paused, and in that pause Rapunzel heard a huge roaring sound, like the wind through treetops during a storm. She didn't know what it was.

Then the faceless man arced the sword over his head and brought down right over Jasen's head.

Rapunzel screamed and covered her eyes with her hands.

"Damn!"

Jasen's voice. Rapunzel uncovered her eyes to see that the thorn vines had been cut, and the faceless man was helping Jasen to his knees.

"Damn!" Jasen repeated as Rapunzel rushed to his side and threw her arms around him. "I'm going to need a new pair of breeches – um, who's your friend?"

"I - " Rapunzel couldn't breathe. She looked Jasen up and down, saw scratches all over his body and his clothing was stained and shredded. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, but - " Jasen looked over his head and his eyes widened. "Oh, shi - GET DOWN!"

A huge shadow fell over her as Rapunzel felt herself pushed down to the ground. She couldn't see anything but the earth was shaking and that strange roar she'd heard before grew louder. She twisted herself around and looked through the tangle of Jasen's and the faceless man's bodies, which were both arched protectively over her, and saw only a mass of glistening red scales. _Very_ close -

"Give me the girl!" someone said. At first Rapunzel had no idea who the voice belonged to – it sounded somewhat female but deep and hollow at the same time. Then she realized it was Vashrath's real voice and held her breath. _Why does she want me?_ Wolves growled, all around them.

"You must be crazy," Jasen snarled back above her. "Get out of here, find some other kingdom to try and take over. You already tried this one and failed, remember? Get out!"

_Hssssssss_ , came the reply, loud and threatening. "Give her to me or I will kill you and take her anyway."

_The water-sword_ , Rapunzel thought. It wasn't much, but it was the only weapon she had. In her left pocket...she twisted one arm around beneath her body and struggled to reach it.

The faceless man growled something in a language Rapunzel didn't understand, but Vashrath apparently did because she laughed.

"Do you think just because I've already killed you I cannot yet make you suffer?" she asked, then hissed again. "Obey me!"

Rapunzel felt her fingertips touch the end of the water-sword's hilt. Almost there -

The faceless man said something else, and next to him Rapunzel heard Jasen make a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a grunt of a pain.

"Give it up, Vashrath!" he gasped. "You don't have any friends here and you're not getting near anyone under my protection. You hear me?"

"Foolish mortal prince!" Vashrath sneered, and Rapunzel saw the red scales undulate like waves on a sea as the serpent coiled around them. "You can protect no one against my magic! And your murderer has surrendered you so you are mine to do with as I please. Give me the girl and your death will be an easy one. Defy me at your peril!"

"I guess serpents don't have ears!" Jaseon replied, and stood up halfway even though Rapunzel could see the movement was paining him; blood dripped from the cuts on his body, and the hand she could see clenched in defiance was shaking with the pain. "Or brains either, or you'd remember what magic I've got flowing through my veins. You think Symdalin's not a match for you? Think again! And go away before I let you have it."

Rapunzel edged the hilt of the water-sword out of her pocket, finally able to grab the weapon and pull it out of her pocket. She crooked her arm so she could see the hilt in her hand and desperately tried to summon a blade. Tried, even though she knew that there was no water to form anything from. But she couldn't give up -

"Ha!" Vashrath boomed, her voice closer now. "You have chosen the difficult death, I see! By the time my wolves are done with your rescuers there will be no one to find your bones. One last time and then I unleash them on you. Give me the girl!"

"No," Jasen replied, and the faceless man growled something too. But Rapunzel barely heard them, so desperately was she concentrating on the sword hilt, trying to pull any water anywhere in to make a blade. But there was nothing, and her heart sank. The grass was so dry -

_thwip_

Something darted through the air and hovered over hilt, so dark and small that Rapunzel thought it must be an insect. Then a few more drops appeared and Rapunzel started, narrowed her eyes and looked.

_That's blood_ , she thought, stunned. _Oh – oh, that's his blood -_

And it was, skimming up from the grass and trickling from Jasen's wounds, a slight but steady stream of blood that was quickly forming a slender but very lethal-looking blade. Rapunzel stared at it, horrified and fascinated. She had a weapon -

"Ssso be it," Vashrath hissed, and Rapunzel heard the growl of the wolves, loud and close, and in the distance the sounds of battle were deafening as Yates and the Symdalins fought to reach the prince's side. But they might not make it in time. She fought to rise.

"Rapunzel, stay down!" Jasen whispered, and tried to take her arm to guide her back to safe cover but she was quicker. Before he could get a good grip on her she squirmed out of his grasp and pulled herself out into the grass, quickly stood, and looked Vashrath the serpent squarely in the eye.

Time stopped it seemed, and hung there, frozen. Rapunzel found herself looking at a gigantic red serpent, bigger than a house, bristling with sharp red scales that glittered in the morning sunlight. The serpent's face was gnarled and ugly, with a jagged black scar running down the right side of its face and over a grotesquely malformed hole where the right eye should have been. The monster reeked of stale water and decay; it glared at Rapunzel with a hatred she had only seen once before.

_What would you have me be? Handsome like a prince?_

In her own mother's eyes, when she had talked about leaving the tower.

"You!" the serpent hissed baring its fangs. "Go into the woods with my wolves and I may spare your prince's life."

Rapunzel stared into that hate and shook her head. "No. Listen to him. Go away and leave us alone."

"Foolish child!" Vashrath roared. "What do you think you have that you can defy - "

Rapunzel didn't know what else to do. She lifted the sword as high as she could point it.

Vashrath's reaction was not what Rapunzel expected. She hadn't thought, until that moment, exactly how she was going to keep the serpent from harming any of them; only that she had to do it. The blood-sword was not long, or wide, although it did look sharp. Rapunzel did not realize until she actually lifted it that she had no plan if that one failed; and only hoped that maybe the serpent would fight her, and the others could escape.

But that is not what happened. At the sight of the blood-sword the serpent abruptly froze, and its remaining eye widened and stared at the sword in alarm.

"Where did you get that?" Vashrath asked, the tone something like...panic? _"Where did you get that?"_

"That's none of your concern," Rapunzel answered, stepping between Vashrath and the prince. "Go away and leave us all alone!"

The serpent hissed, but retreated a little, and was it shrinking? It looked that way, but Rapunzel couldn't tell for sure…

Behind her she head the prince whisper, "Um – hey, friend, could you grab me a stick or something? I don't have my sword and I'm feeling kinda, you know, useless at the moment..."

The faceless man grunted, but Rapunzel didn't turn around to see what was happening. Vashrath was shrinking, growing smaller, and behind the serpent's coils Rapunzel could see the cavalry and Symdalins still battling the wolves, great clouds of dead leaves and dust swirling around them as they clashed.

And the blood – all the blood shed from all of them, Symdalin and human alike, was threading through the air toward the blade of her sword, floating like beads and sparkling in the sun. It took Rapunzel a moment to understand what was happening, but once she did she knew it was frightening Vashrath and that was all that mattered.

She glared at the witch and set her jaw firmly. "Get out of here and leave us alone," she ordered.

The serpent shrank a little more – a little more -

Then opened its jaws and shot toward the prince like an arrow from a bow.

Instinctively Rapunzel raised her arm and stabbed upward as the serpent's shadow fell over her; she yelled something but she wasn't even sure what it was. She closed her eyes and hunched her shoulders, preparing for the crushing weight to fall -

\- but nothing happened. She opened her eyes.

She was sitting on her rump, the sword still held high, its blade gone. Around her a huge cloud of dust and leaves was settling, mixed in with a strange red mist Rapunzel had never seen before. At the edge of the woods, the Symdalins and cavalry were looking around. Some were sitting, some standing, some lying down, but all wore the same expression of confusion.

The wolves were gone. Vashrath was gone.

Everything was silence.

But for a few moments only. Before Rapunzel could blink twice the cavalry men began shouting at each other, calling names and rattling their swords and shields. The air was suddenly full of movement as man and Symdalin alike stood, shook themselves off, and took stock of the battle's toll.

Rapunzel herself took a deep breath, another, then saw two figures detach themselves from the tangle at the edge of the woods and come running toward where she sat: Captain Yates and Kendil, both looking desperately concerned.

Jasen! Suddenly frightened, she turned to see what had happened to her beloved. Jasen had risen to one knee behind her, both bleeding hands curled into fists, and he was looking around with angry blue eyes, his bloodstreaked blond hair flopping his face.

"Where'd she go?" Jasen's darted about frantically, even as Rapunzel quickly knelt beside him and took his face in her hands. "Damn it, she wanted a fight, where'd she go? Vashrath!"

"She's gone," Rapunzel replied, "Are you all right?"

Jasen didn't seem to notice Rapunzel was even there, and tried to get to his feet. "That coward, I'll teach her to threaten my kingdom! _Vashrath!_ "

"Your highness!" Yates was at Jasen's side now, and Rapunzel sat back so he could take a closer look at the prince. "Take it easy, your highness, the fight is over."

"Oh, no, it's not," Jasen insisted, and still tried to get up even though Kendil was on his other side now and had a very firm grip on his arm. "It hasn't even started yet. She – she killed two of my soldiers and you saw what she – Kendil, let go of me, damn it, we've got to find her!"

"Another day, your highness," Kendil answered, gently but firmly pulling pack on Jasen's arm until the prince sat back on the grass. "When you don't look like something the palace chef just fileted. Did the red serpent hurt you?"

"Hm? Oh - " Jasen blinked and looked around himself again. "No, she tried though! One of her henchmen was trying to gut me when you showed up."

"Henchmen?" Kendil repeated. "Vashrath has henchmen now? She always worked alone before. What happened to him?"

Jasen glanced around and shrugged. "He must have run off. Big guy, but I didn't get a good look at him. You know, sun in my eyes, Vashrath right over there, thorns digging into me, that kinda thing."

"Hm. Then what happened?"

"Um – well," Jasen sighed and ran one scratched hand through his hair. "Then you guys showed up and Rapunzel and that – foggy guy freed me, where'd he go? He was just here - "

Rapunzel cast her eyes about also, but although the hillside was now full of people, the faceless man was not one of them. He had vanished.

Kendil looked around as well, his ever-changing eyes glittering with intent, but after a few moments he sighed and gave up. "We'll have to find him and thank him, he's done the kingdom a great service for certain! But first things first, I think."

"Yes," Yates agreed, and fixed both the prince and Rapunzel with a stern look. "It's back to the cavalry yard and then the sea-palace with both of you, and under very heavily armed escort, I might add. Durwin is waiting to see to your wounds and I'm sure he's very anxious to know you're both all right. Kendil, see to the prince and I'll make sure this young lady gets to the yard in one piece."

"Of course," Kendil nodded, and as his words sparked a very heated debate between himself and the prince, Yates quickly rose and offered Rapunzel his hand. She took it, and he began walking her to where his horse was waiting at the edge of the woods.

As soon as they were a dozen paces away, Yates glanced over his shoulder at the prince and Kendil; then, as if satisfied they couldn't hear he leaned close to Rapunzel and asked, "Did the red serpent hurt you?"

Rapunzel took a mental stock, top to toe, and shook her head. "Is she dead? What happened to her?"

"I wish I knew," Yates answered with a grim expression as he led her to the edge of the woods. "I wouldn't say so in front of the prince because he obviously has so much of his mother's spirit, but...what happened? I mean, what did you do that made her vanish?"

"Nothing," Rapunzel shrugged, and reaching into her pocket pulled out the water-sword's hilt. "I just...showed her this. King Daenas showed me how to use it. She seemed frightened of it."

"Yes, and with reason," Yates nodded with a frown. "Its bigger sister put out her eye and nearly killed her many years ago. Do you know the story of what happened to Prince Jasen's mother?"

Rapunzel nodded; they were nearly to the horse's side now. The cavalry and Symdalins were mingling, helping each other bind wounds and search the woods for hidden enemies. "Durwin told me. But the blade I summoned was tiny, hardly longer than my finger. And I'm nothing to be scared of. I don't know what I did."

"Nor do I," Yates admitted, glancing around at the broken branches and scattered weapons around them. "But whatever it was, you frightened her away from something she wanted _very_ badly. That bears paying attention to."

Rapunzel suddenly felt very cold. She looked down at the sword-hilt. "Do you think she'll come back?"

"Experience says yes," Yates placed one hand on the pommel of his horse's saddle and prepared to mount. "She's a very powerful witch. But once we inform King Daneas of this I'm sure he'll have his soldiers scouring the land and sea for her, she won't be able to hide for long. In the meantime we have magicks to protect you, especially at the palace, and there's the prince. He's _very_ keen to protect you."

With those words Yates swung himself onto the saddle, and Rapunzel let her eyes travel to the sunlit hill beyond the woods, where amidst a cluster of soldiers Kendil had gotten Jasen to his feet and was wiping the blood from his face with a borrowed handkerchief.

_But who will protect him?_ She wanted to ask, even though it was a silly question. He had an army to protect him, magic, his mother's blood. What danger could he be in, really?

Except..."Captain Yates?"

Yates was comfortably in the saddle now, and looked down at her. "Yes, miss?"

"Wasn't there someone else on the hill, when we got here? I couldn't see but – there were thorn vines, that's how he got those scratches. And I think someone was standing over him with a sword."

"Oh?" Yates looked up and squinted at the prince. "You didn't see who?"

Rapunzel shook her head. "They ran away."

Yates scowled. "Another of Vashrath's cowardly servants, probably running through the outer woods soiling themselves by now. I'll ask the prince what he remembers after the doctor has a look at him." He reached down his hand. "Speaking of which, I'd better get you back to Durwin before he has me skinned for keeping him in suspense. Come on, miss. Let's leave this place."

Ormand ran.

It was blind, panicked, thoughtless running, racing after his horse, grabbing its bridle, jerking it down the hill and running next to it, fast fast fast but not as fast as his heart was pounding because damn, DAMN, he was sure he saw that girl and if she'd seen him – if she recognized him -

Ormand ran until he reached the bottom of the hill and the small stone path that led to it, aimed for a deserted alleyway off the street and ducked into it, leading his horse behind him. As soon as they were in the shadows he released his horse's bridle and let the animal run forward a few hundred feet then canter to a stop until he could catch up. Ormand slowed to a trot, then a walk, deeper and deeper into the cool dark shadows until finally he stopped, panting, leaning forward and putting his hands on his knees. He didn't dare look behind him; scarcely dared to listen.

Damn.

Finally the ringing in his ears, which had been deafening, lessened, and he tilted his head, listened for the sound of pursuing cavalry, or that strange angry roaring sound he'd heard.

Silence. Birds sang, somewhere a clock chimed the quarter-hour. Nothing else.

Ormand straightened, looked up the alleyway to the hill beyond, visible only as a gray-green sliver between two stone walls. No one was coming down the hill after him; maybe they didn't see him after all…or maybe Morrine had -

Morrine! Ormand's blood ran suddenly cold and he turned back into the shadows, his mind spinning. What had happened up there? Morrine was no one, just some common witch from the woods, but the prince had called her Vashrath and _my god_ that was the biggest serpent he'd ever seen! What if she really was Vashrath? What if someone found out he'd been helping her? He'd be executed for treason!

\- but no. No, that was ridiculous, Ormand reasoned with himself as he took a deep breath and checked his clothes for burrs and bloodstains. The red serpent was dead, killed years ago, and why would anyone as powerful as that need his help, or bother with a simple little girl like that Rapunzel person? The prince was a fool, and Morrine was no one he needed to be afraid of. He still had the upper hand with that wench.

But, damn, damn! He hadn't killed the prince. And that Rapunzel girl had seen him, he knew it. She was right at the head of that horde of beasts, what if she recognized him? She would tell someone, the prince would back her up, and then...

"And then I'm finished," Ormand said to the empty air, and felt his heart sink. Damn, and he'd been so close! If only he hadn't hesitated, the prince would be dead and he could have killed the girl too, because who notice if they were busy fighting off a red serpent as big as a house? But now…

Ormand cast wary eyes to the end of the alleyway, where that damned hill still stone bathed in sunlight. Cautiously he stepped toward the light, just enough to see up the hill. He hoped to see black smoke, hear death cries, maybe even see Morrine coming to look for him. There was movement in the trees and Ormand took another step forward, holding his breath.

It was not Morrine. Instead Ormand saw a half-dozen soldiers on horseback coming out of the woods, their swords out and their eyes sweeping the sunlit grass with keen precision. A few had the bodies of dead wolves slung over their horse's backs. Among them walked a half-dozen strange, slender beings whose skin glistened in the daylight like frosted glass. They too carried swords, and it took Ormand a few moments to realize who they were. When he did, he gasped and retreated back in the shadows.

Symdalins! Damn, that made things worse. That meant King Daenas knew about what happened, knew the prince was in danger and maybe even knew about Morrine. If he knew Ormand had been there – if he knew he tried to kill the prince -

He had to hide. No, he had to go back to the palace, no matter what he needed to have a way to contradict whatever anyone said. He needed someone to swear he'd been at the palace for the last half hour at least. He needed an alibi. He needed an ally.

An ally. Ormand straightened.

"Of course," he said to himself, and immediately felt better. Felt wonderful, in fact.

He knew exactly what he was going to do, and precisely who to talk to. He had to hurry to get back to the palace before anyone else got there of course, but he could do that. He knew all the back ways, and once at the palace he wasn't going through the main gate anyway.

He was going straight to the wine cellar. And his alibi.

With that comforting thought, Ormand hurried to his horse, mounted it, and rode out of the alley down the winding streets, the sound of his horse's hooves echoing from the walls like pebbles falling in a tomb.


End file.
